Yet another poem written for me cause I'm special.

Our Faulkner

Our Faulkner, who art in O’Hara,
Hallowed be thy Neruda.
Thy Kafka come.
Thy Whitman be done,
On Emerson as it is in Hemingway.
Give us this day our daily Beckett.
And forgive us our Tennyson,
As we forgive those who Tolstoy against us.
And lead us not into Trotsky,
But deliver us from Eliot.
For thine is the Kipling,
And the Pound, and the Paz, and the Plath—and the Gore Vidal,
For ever and ever.

Auden.

~ Ben Perez