Non sine honore in terris aliis
The Yankee literati couldn’t bear
A Southern gentleman like Mr. Poe.
Judgmental in their absolutist lair,
They scoffed at Southern genius. Even so
It always is with lamps that truly glow
In the thick dark that apes normality.
Into obscurity must such lights go!
To such truth, how can puffed-up frauds agree?
The messengers of mediocrity
Pushed hard. It seemed that excellence was dead.
The lies of Griswold spread alarmingly.
Delighted Yankees on that poor corpse fed--
But did not long enjoy their ghoulish feast.
Who raised Poe from defeat? Les symbolistes!
This poem was originally published on Flammeus Gladius.
Tom Riley was born in Buffalo, but through study has become a Rebel from Yankeeland. He works as a freelance copywriter and is the author of Love Poems of a Hatemonger and The Ghost of Biden’s Brain.