Watching "Mad Men" this morning, I kept thinking of an Archibald MacLeish poem, "Ars Poetica," which I read in high school:
A poem should be palpable and mute
As a globed fruit
Dumb
As old medallions to the thumb
Silent as the sleeve-worn stone
Of casement ledges where the moss has grown -
A poem should be wordless
As the flight of birds
A [...]
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