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POETRY
To Pushkin
Well, sir, I find you to be romantic
from all sides: in life and writing
and politics.
If only you’d left off fighting!
But who can blame a man for getting sick
of another pursuing his own wife?
Still, I wish you’d survived
and stayed alive
to pen more masterpieces, commenting on strife
Russian and otherwise.
In death, you won the prize
akin to a knighting:
such praise from such brilliant authors
seeing you in your best lighting.
A nation’s dear treasure,
outlasting your rival, no doubt,
remaining charmed, by poets armed
with copies of your verses: history’s best route.
Like Byron, going in blazing glory,
too autobiographical,
living stories
that should be metaphorical.
You became Eugene, but with a twist: the
outcome would have been better if he’d missed.
But you burned like a flame
and thus your name
remains with reverence on enthusiasts’ lips,
like mine, I…
