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From: ccf@cbosgd.UUCP (Chuck F.)
Newsgroups: net.poems
Subject: A Poem for Mr. Mincemeat
Message-ID: <978@cbosgd.UUCP>
Date: Thu, 16-Feb-84 12:47:49 EST
Article-I.D.: cbosgd.978
Posted: Thu Feb 16 12:47:49 1984
Date-Received: Fri, 17-Feb-84 05:09:48 EST
Distribution: na
Organization: AT&T Bell Laboratories, Columbus
Lines: 26



		A Poem for Mr. Mincemeat

	The poet is shut away in his old tower.
	Hear the wind.
	The poet is musing, without appearing to.
	All of a sudden, he has goose-bumps.
	The Devil!
	No, it's not him: it is the wind,
	the wind of the spirit passing by.
	The poet's head is full of it,
	full of wind.
	He smiles slyly, while his heart weeps like a willow.
	But the spirit is present!
	It gazes on him with an evil eye: a glass eye.
	And the poet grows meek and blushes.
	He can muse no more: he retches!
	A terrible retching of blank verse
	and bitter disillusions!


				*<--- chuck --->*

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