Time was when a Chaucer, a Milton or a Goethe could feel just as much at home at a civil servant's desk as in a poet's leafy glade. No more. Washington, no less than other world capitals, is a city of proseĀin triplicate, quadruplicate, or burnt brown Thermo-Fax. In such surroundings, Katie Louchheim stands out as clearly as a lyric line, for she is one of the last survivors of a lost race: the poet-bureaucrat or bureaucrat-poet. Which comes first is hard to say, for last week, just a few days after she...
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