How do I explain myself to a man who thinks eating is pure pleasure? He looks on the passing scene as he chews. So that we can communicate, I speak about his food being nicely seasoned. He can smile at me between gulps, talking about the passing crowds of excited weepers and mourners headed -- where to? -- in such numbers. He would like to know to what disaster or to whose funeral. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HEALALL by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS RAIN ON A GRAVE by THOMAS HARDY A WINTER WISH by ROBERT HINCKLEY MESSINGER A BETTER ANSWER (TO CHLOE JEALOUS) by MATTHEW PRIOR IN THE GARDEN AT SWAINSTON (IN MEMORIAM - SIR JOHN SIMEON) by ALFRED TENNYSON |