I took my lyre and said
I took my lyre and said:
Come now, my heavenly tortoise shell: become a speaking instrument
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I took my lyre and said:
Come now, my heavenly tortoise shell: become a speaking instrument
In evil long I took delight,
Unawed by shame or fear,
Till a new object struck my sight,
And stopped my wild career
There it was, word for word,
The poem that took the place of a mountain
He breathed its oxygen,
Even when the book lay turned in the dust of his table
some say we should keep personal remorse from the poem,stay abstract, and there is some reason in this,but jezus;twelve poems gone and I don't keep carbons and you havemypaintings too, my best ones; its stifling:are you trying to crush me out like...