Dear Roethke, Whitman & Frost

I just got my ass handed to me in a poetry class. Frost, I am sorry I ever thought you trite. I apologize for all those who made you seem so. Your brilliance and your depth astound me. I'm glad your poems did not mean what I had been led to believe. It was so surface - so patriotic, so quick and transparent. But that is not the case with you. It's the opposite I find. The irony and the puns have made me question, made me look, made me laugh. So shrewed and sharp-witted; you have added to my life. 

I now take pleasure in your poems, 

And that has made all the difference. 

(Irony wholly intended.)