Nomad Exquisite is a terrific sound-and-feeling poem that pours itself out in one lovely unthinking glob. The kind of poem that would elicit rather bleating criticism in a workshop while asserting itself like a hot pulse that hasn’t the first idea what a workshop is, never mind caring what it might say. I love this poem.
Not so much this reading by Wallace Stevens, though:
Too declamatory and dramatic by half – takes itself far too seriously, is my sentiment.
This reading by a Rick Kisner at Lit2Go is more sympathetic – not so much too fast as failing to pay adequate attention to spaces and spacing, perhaps, but I like it better: