New poem

New poem On First Looking Into Keats’ House As we approached the building, my mother was murmuring Much have I travell’d in the realms of gold, the opening line of Keats’ “On first looking into Chapman’s Homer”. I was thinking more of Ezra Pound’s Homeric thoughts: His true Penelope was Flaubert/He fished by obstinate isles. Poor Keats: his romance with the sun was consummated only when he took his tuberculotic lungs to Italy.