26. Kenward Elmslie, "Sibling Rivalry"

"Back at the safari,
precursor stalwarts reeled in salmon,
shot pampas zebras, fjord hippos,
wham, went blind.

Daydreams in steamrooms.
Nance fantasies, gung-ho lunges
at tent show sleaze..."

Here is a poet with a recognizable style, derived from other New York school models but ultimately all his own. I'll have to go back and revise everyone else's score down after reading this. He really shows up most of the rest of the poets that I had to struggle through up til now. Why does poetry have to be so dull so much of the time? Cui bono? Whose interest does it serve for poetry to be dull? Repent dull poets! 9.75!