The white Venetian blind. Gwendolyn Brooks
Jumbles, Charlottes, “marangs”
Oliver Wendell Holmes, Elsie Venner
“I’ve already noticed,” he went on, “how disgraceful the food is! Haven’t you? … The food was bad. Cooked for false teeth, served without wine, of an almost studied pallor (jellied broth, fish in a bland sauce, boiled potatoes, big yellowish beans), and cooled by its journey up from the kitchen in the basement, their dinner had had a quality of disinvolvement, like dishes served on the stage. An illusion of food. At the end had come a custard, pale, frightened, a virtual Mélisande of a custard, proving to Francis that Mrs. McBride must have planned the meal.
— James Merrill
Tylman de Gameren so loved to scoff,
With loads of capercaillies, fully busted,
And soft asparaguses to suck off. James Fenton, “Lollipops of the Pomeranian Baroque” (poem appears in the section of JF’s Selected titled “Empire of the Senseless,” but here is Wikipedia on Gameren) [cf. Updike’s skies]