Confess it. A great deal
Of choice, of preference,
Even admiration,
For artists, for writers,
Your favorites, your loves,
Will depend on your view
Of the people you think
Tend to be admirers
Of those sorts of writers,
Artists, and musicians—
More than on works themselves.
Rarely do encounters
Seize someone such a way
No later opinions
Dissuade admiration.
Maybe once in your life
You will fall hard in love.
Do you like us? Likely
You’re okay with the sorts
Of people you believe
Would like us. It’s not us.
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