Poem

For the first time in my life, I seem to have mislaid, the weather is finally cooperating, and the exchange rate is really too good, having gone off to clear the debris. Still, it will be lonely.
A few minutes later, I don’t need to worry about public appearances—I mean, that same night.
With intense interest and sympathy, we would like to give you a little party. Though sometimes a lump seems to grow up as we watch on the world stage, symposiums, eye blinks, and realize how very much a big item can be arranged here, with a little love.
Aspirations are all right, too, so the boys hire their own lecturers. Also—they like music, but don’t care about books (I’ve noticed). Forgive me for boring you with these long revelations.