A few days ago, I forgot my iPod and so was forced to entertain myself on my walk to work by reciting the poems I have committed to memory– or had half-forgotten. (A friend and I discuss this in the comments here).
One was the poem that has been in my head the longest: e.e. cummings’s delightful “somewhere i have never travelled.” Aimless googling led me to this bizarre little review attacking the poem.
The author complains about the spelling of “travelled” and “colour,” calls one of the poem’s best lines (“nothing we are to perceive in this world equals / the power of your intense fragility”) a “non-sense remark” (and also misquotes it), and then gets hung up on some irrelevant botanical nitpicking. Its wrongness is so fascinating that I simply had to share it.