Message from Porlock

In 1797, Coleridge’s great romantic poem “Kubla Khan” is said to have been interrupted for all time  by “a person on business from Porlock”

There never was a Xanadu, as far as I can see,
Despite the great man’s ramblings as he ushered me in;
No explanation or offer of tea.
Poets, you think, would have better manners.


His papers were a mess:

Scribblings about dancing girls and caves of ice.
I inspected them, nonetheless,
A thorough waste of time,
And left without more ado,
Since I had come on business.

On the way home, I felt a lurch.
My horse in fast thick pants was breathing -
On account of a broken shoe -
Nothing more alarming.

Back at Porlock, at my inn,
No damsel with a dulcimer followed me in.
I slept in the same room as always.
No wailing troubled my sleep,
Not to my knowledge, at least.

It isn’t that kind of place.