a maker of quills, what would one be?

that a poem is a kind of flower
is a classic conceit coined by a greek
who wanted to suggest that his
compilation of the works of many poets
had colour and scent even though
they were black and white and the scroll
was made of sheepskin

but what other word could we use
than anthology for a collection of poems
or stories to say that they are flowery words
makes them sound late victorian and carries
an odour of musty library with it
or perhaps a pale lily pressed between the pages

and illustrations by beardsley or much like
with a whiff of decadence and another of weary
resignation to eternal rule over the world
and the obligation to lay down the law
once and for all to say which works should endure
and which should forever pass into oblivion

because they did not fit the oxonian or cantabrigian
bias of the failed or half-successful poet
who made a name and knighthood collecting
all the most teachable and noble works
as if creation were over and all that was left was
to catalogue and record and keep from fading