The article discusses the early work of Robert Frost, particularly focusing on his poem 'My Butterfly.' Initially perceived as a poor work, it later garnered Frost his first payment as a poet. Despite its badness, the poem was appreciated by the editor who published it, signaling the discovery of new poetic talent. Author Adam Plunkett argues that the poem has merit, suggesting it evokes a sense of grace. Ultimately, bad poems have a lasting place in the literary canon, shaping and influencing better works.
Bad poems never die, never really go away: The vigor of their badness preserves them. Up they float into bad-poem limbo, where their bad lines drift and tangle with one another eternally.
On reading 'My Butterfly,' the poetry editor called the rest of the staff over to listen because she had just discovered a poet. A woman whose literary perspicacity exceeded my own, clearly.
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