According to the best authorities, the full sweep of contemporary American poetry falls broadly into just two basic categories.
(1) The first is favored by those who lift a pinky while sipping weak tea. They applaud with their fingertips, and smile with little pursed lips. We examine this school of poetry here:
(2) The other is favored by the working-man, wiping his brow at the end of his day of toil. He lifts a roll of ‘baccy to his lips, as with narrowed eyes he scans the horizon for a Sign. Applause from such a man is a silent nod of recognition and respect.
Such poetry is exemplified here:
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