Interlude: on Preserving a Poetical Formula

I. "There's less and less cohesion / In each collection / Of my published poetries? " / You are taking me to task? / And "What were my last Royalties? / Reckoned in pounds, were they, or shillings, / Or even perhaps in pence? " / No, do not ask! / I'm lost, in buyings and sellings. / But please permit only once more for luck / Irreconcilabilities in my book.

For these are all the same stuff really, / The obverse and reverse, if you look closely, / Of busy Imagination's new-coined money; / And if you watch the blind / Phototropisms of my fluttering mind, / Whether, growing strong, I wrestle Jacob-wise / With fiendish darkness blinking threatfully / Its bale-fire eyes, / Or whether childishly