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...THE SITTING by CECIL DAY LEWIS SISTER MARIA CELESTE, GALILEO'S DAUGHTER, WRITES TO FRIEND by MADELINE DEFREES SPEAKING TERMS by JAMES GALVIN TO THE ROCK THAT WILL BE A CORNERSTONE OF THE HOUSE by ROBINSON JEFFERS JOY (1) by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON |