In Simple Lines To F. Scott Fitzgerald

I will not
Go to France and seek
Out the few flickering candles
Upon which, at one time, you may
Have breathed. No, here
In light(and nonlight as well)
Either, glistening
Well-enough, you have breathed
Gently and who
Would rather breathing
Anyway?

Even in France.

Perhaps I am
Paying homage perhaps
I am not. It does
Not have to be in France
At all, I shall
Recite and compose,
Quite well here.

Quite well.

"Then wear the gold hat."
You need not, for being
Moved has always been the
Testament
To any literary
Merit and surpassing that: you, by far. Creating your own
Spun gold out of Something that was never
There. In the first place.
The rich are different than you and I,
Darling, and I
Need not go to France
To realize
That.

Then move on, my Gatsby, if you must.
I have grown accustomed
To waiting.

And making due.