When I asked Wallace
Stevens' permission to reprint poems
     he published in the Advocate,
he acceded with a note
     that set me thinking: 'Some
of one's early things give one the creeps.'
     Later I went up to him
at a brunch before The Game, where
     he stood with friends
from Hartford Accident and Indemnity.
     I deferred to the poet;
the businessman blushed and muttered.
     I asked if he could stay
in town through Monday; the Advocate
     was giving a party
...