If you don't know Weldon Kees, you can do yourself a favor and read some of his poems like the Robinson series, For My Daughter, or The Smile of the Bathers.

Here's the Robinson poem

ROBINSON

    The dog stops barking after Robinson has gone.
    His act is over. The world is a gray world,
    Not without violence, and he kicks under the grand piano,   
    The nightmare chase well under way.
    
    The mirror from Mexico, stuck to the wall,   
    Reflects nothing at all. The glass is black.   
    Robinson alone provides the image Robinsonian.
    
    Which is all of the room—walls, curtains,
    Shelves, bed, the tinted photograph of Robinson’s first wife,   
    Rugs, vases, panatellas in a humidor.
    They would fill the room if Robinson came in.
    
    The pages in the books are blank,
    The books that Robinson has read. That is his favorite chair,   
    Or where the chair would be if Robinson were here.
    
    All day the phone rings. It could be Robinson   
    Calling. It never rings when he is here.
    
    Outside, white buildings yellow in the sun.   
    Outside, the birds circle continuously   
    Where trees are actual and take no holiday.

Kees was writing in the 40s/50s. He also was a talented painter and exhibit with famous abstract expressionists.

He never really held onto the scene.

He disappeared one day in San Francisco. There was no body, no note, no indication of what happened. I watched the [new documentary](https://youtu.be/k9GPoadHBtU) about Kees, which is quite good.

[OPINION] - Weldon Kees, the best American poet that hardly anyone has heard of