Robert Francis

I dreamed that Power and Poetry were walking down the street together. It was beautiful to see how they accommodated themselves to each other. Poetry, for example, walked a little faster than usual and Power slowed down his stride, and so they kept abreast.

I overheard Power tell Poetry that he too was powerful. I could see that Poetry tried not to look flattered and that Power tried not to sound patronizing.

Poetry seemed to hear everything that Power was saying. Communication the other way was not quite so successful, Poetry having a low-pitched voice.

I saw Power reach out a hand as if to lay it on Poetry's shoulder or possibly to pat his head. But the hand couldn't reach head or shoulder. The hand could have reached only if Power had stooped.

They were friends all right, and it was beautiful to see how they kept abreast. They would have gone arm in arm, no doubt, had that been possible.
- Pot Shots at Poetry, "Poetry and Power"