So my mind was filled with wonder
When the evening headline read:
'Rachel Corrie went home last night
And got her whiny, complaining, stupid Liberal
self killed entirely at her own hand by being someplace
no sane human would want to be during a war which was
started by vicious animal-like Arab Muslims who have
spent sixty years and every drop of aid money buying
guns and blowing up Israeli pizza parlors full of
innocent children when they should have been spending
that cash in building their own businesses and
farms, DUH, but instead have been so completely
gulled by lying, corrupt leaders about how "one day
you will triumph over the JOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSE" that they
stand in line starving to death while those leaders
salt away the Western aid money into Swiss bank accounts.'"
With thanks to Simon and Garfunkel and that old dead poet, whose name nobody remembers.
Edwin Arlington Robinson.
Richard Corey
WHENEVER Richard Cory went down town,
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored, and imperially slim.
And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked;
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
“Good-morning,” and he glittered when he walked.
And he was rich—yes, richer than a king,
And admirably schooled in every grace:
In fine, we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.
So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without the meat, and cursed the bread;
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.