Classic Poem

Someone else I know of—neither young nor old—
Seated late at night in my accustomed chair,
Willed to an intended thing which must be told,
Catches intimations brought from otherwhere.

Someone else invades me for an hour or two.
Clocked occluded self wrote never lines like his.
Me he has no need of. And I know not who
Or from what irrational inwardness he is.