Poem maybe
On Margate sands I connect nothing with nothing
As our old pal Tom once remarked. These sands
Are damp and littered, not at all appealing,
Not like the soft sands of Manfredonia where the
Italian boys grew onions and garlic for their
Lunch. Can you imagine how much I wish I were
There? No, you cannot, my dears. Especially not
In the little time we have left to us.
Hayden Carruth, 1921 - 2008
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