After such sitting without shitting
But just texting without reflecting
O the peace and the quiet
Life she’d had it by the thumbs
And, yes and too, by the way
Sans smells unpleasant or even splashing.
— Poem and drawing—done with acrylic paint and an umbrella tip—by William Eaton
∩ Title adapted from the closing lines of “Past one o’clock,” a poem by Vladimir Mayakovsky as translated by Max Hayward and George Reavey.
In hours like these, one rises to address
The ages, history, and all creation.