Here are the pin-ups of the nude, nubile tits and shadowed bellies lying in wait with bleak, amused smiles. And these men at the type fount find it inconvenient to look up and wink or brush against them to and from the composing table. Off the rushed streets I come with business figures crowding in my head and stagger, silent, but catch myself quickly. These men could think me queer for looking. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BETTER PART by MATTHEW ARNOLD ON MAN by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR MUSIC IN THE NIGHT by HARRIET PRESCOTT SPOFFORD ODE TO DUTY by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH REMEMBER OR FORGET by C. HAMILTON AIDE FROM AN EXCAVATION ON THE WARRIOR RIVER by ESTHER BARRETT ARGO |