Now, we come to my own poems.
I would write here and there in various books.
And I'll close by reading some things which have not yet
been collected or in some cases, not yet published
but we've been working on.
You know all poets, sooner or later,
write lots of travel poems, sometimes
tediously, the kind of poems Robert Bly
has described like Guggenheim in Italy.
My reflections on the Piazza San Marco or something like that.
I've written one travel poem called "Exploration."
So I'm going to inflict it upon you.
One, alligators do not grow in Devonshire.
The coast is generally precipitous.
Nor are there any oranges worth mentioning, but it rains.
Two, ocelots abound in New Caledonia.
Beware.
Three, in Nova Scotia, broken saucers
are not allowed on the streets after sundown
as a general rule.
Although exceptions are made in cases of extreme urgency.
[LAUGHTER]
Four, oh, how my heart longs for New Caledonia.