had he lived longer than a butterfly imagine
the words he could have sprawled against
our page: an assault of the senses: keats in
his beauty, his truth it all fails. fails with
a magnitude that only a man who dies so
young to change the lines of poetry while
ending all in odes: alone in italy a country
known for canals that hide the sins of man
and rome where gladiators came to know
how true death was - to all - not as he put
"Beauty is truth, truth beauty, - that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know."*
* Ode on a Grecian Urn: by John Keats
