am Minerva, the village poetess,
at, jeered at by the Yahoos of the street
my heavy body, cock-eye, and rolling walk,
all the more when "Butch" Weldy
me after a brutal hunt.
left me to my fate with Doctor Meyers;
I sank into death, growing numb from the feet
one stepping deeper and deeper into a stream of
some one go to the village newspaper,
gather into a book the verses I wrote?—
thirsted so for love!
hungered so for life!