some people never go , sometimes I'll lie down behind the couchfor 3 or 4 'll find me 's Cherub, they'll say, andthey pour wine down my throatrub my chestsprinkle me with oils. then,
I'll rise with a roar,rant, rage -curse them and the universeas I send them scattering over thelawn.
I'll feel much better,sit down to toast and eggs,hum a little tune, suddenly become as lovable as apink overfed whale. some people never go truly horrible livesthey must lead.
