Poe wrote “To Helen,”
considered by many
one of the great love poems.
“Nicean barks” & “the glory
that was Greece,” admirable
phrases, I admit, but to
paraphrase Tina Turner,
what’s love got to do with them?
Poe visualizes Helen as a statue
in a niche, all marmoreal ‘n shit.
A Poe scenario: mice have invaded
our home. My love? She
baits the traps with organic,
salt-free peanut butter.
