Stevie Smith

I hadn't read any poetry by Stevie Smith although I know she was very highly regarded in the UK.  This morning, my Poetry app threw up her poem, 'Thoughts About the Person from Porlock'.  I've often wondered who the person was who disturbed Coleridge as he raced to get down the verses from his fevered imagination before they dissipated into smoke.


Coleridge received the Person from Porlock   
And ever after called him a curse,
Then why did he hurry to let him in?   
He could have hid in the house.

It was not right of Coleridge in fact it was wrong   
(But often we all do wrong)
As the truth is I think he was already stuck   
With Kubla Khan.

He was weeping and wailing: I am finished, finished,   
I shall never write another word of it,
When along comes the Person from Porlock
And takes the blame for it.

It was not right, it was wrong,   
But often we all do wrong.

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