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...LETTERS TO DEAD IMAGISTS by CARL SANDBURG THE PRETTY GIRL OF LOCH DAN by SAMUEL FERGUSON THE DYING SWAN by THOMAS STURGE MOORE EPIGRAM ON QUEEN CAROLINE'S DEATHBED by ALEXANDER POPE THE CHARGE OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE by ALFRED TENNYSON THE STAR OF BETHLEHEM by HENRY KIRKE WHITE |