Is there a reason?
Hmm?
A reason?
No.
[LAUGHTER]
Nope.
Thanks.
Nah.
My check-off notebook has just been destroyed.
[LAUGHTER]
[INAUDIBLE]
This-- this next poem is entitled "Window On The East."
And I think, like some of the earlier ones I was reading
and a few others that I'll read before I'm through,
I mean them very much at times as what's on the surface
is a value, and that if something is visually there,
that's often what I intend, like not really
having any symbolic feeling for what's behind it,
but simply very much taking it on a face value.
It's entitled "Window On The East."
Only the seemliest operation is fair on a day like today.
Better to sort different clothes tomorrow than today.
And so the piece began without any calm in sight.
And the blowing drops of water blew over the white land.
In a foggy dream, I am taking you over land
to someone important.
Shake your fist at every flag along the way or else
you will fall to the wayside, like a shovel.
I heard you were living, and there were clothes in my dream.
Your nose stood lonely in the valley,
like a widower or a windmill.