Life, friends, is boring. We must not say so.After all, the sky flashes, the great sea yearns,we ourselves flash and yearn,and moreover my mother told me as a boy(repeatedly) Ever to confes youre boredmeans you have noInner Resources. I conclude now I have noinner resources, because I am heavy bored.Peoples bore me,literature bores me, especially great literature,Henry bores me, with his plights & gripesas bad as achilles,Who loves people and valiant art, which bores me.And the tranquil hills, & gin, look like a dragand somehow a doghas taken itself & its tail considerably awayinto mountains or sea or sky, leavingbehind: me, wag. John Berryman, Dream Song 14

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