I just read a book
And at the end I was shook.
So I read it again
But then I forgot how it began.
That darned confusing book.

719

A South Wind—has a pathos
Of individual Voice—
As One detect on Landings
An Emigrant’s address.

A Hint of Ports and Peoples—
And much not understood—
The fairer—for the farness—
And for the foreignhood.

Whenever I hate people, and they're being disrespectful
I say to myself: "One day, they'll work for me."
And it makes me feel better.

The noon's greygolden meshes make
All night a veil,
The shorelamps in the sleeping lake
Laburnum tendrils trail.

The sly reeds whisper to the night
A name-- her name-
And all my soul is a delight,
A swoon of shame.

I find the lack of respect and intelligence in this world disturbing.

If you set your bar any lower, you'll be in hell before you even died.