Once and for all there's no genetic virtue. Our cherubic baldy flounces around, fresh out of Boulder, in black robes, Japanese words quick on his tongue. World War 11 nearly destroyed my family, so I ask him to learn Chinese. He understands I'm a fool. Then over a gallon of wine we agree there's no language for such matters, no happiness outside consciousness. Drink. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: THE VILLAGE ATHEIST by EDGAR LEE MASTERS EPISTLE IN FORM OF A BALLAD TO HIS FRIENDS by FRANCOIS VILLON DEJECTION: AN ODE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE IN THE SHADOWS: 20 by DAVID GRAY (1838-1861) YOU ON THE TOWER by THOMAS HARDY MAY (1) by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI |