thanks for that. i miss the old romantics


Man Cave

The sticks of the house were mine; bricks - these books I own.
Even since a baby never have I read;
Nor did I now, save to this secret womb I call my home.

A cloister of books archived by the library
As who by clyster gave the stomach meat.

Out of mine eyes do I spy the last hint of night.
Here among the light of lording sky
That old man is me ere I go..

Unread.

Firmness; 'tis the first part that comes to bed.
psp
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