A Study of Reading Habits
When getting my nose in a book
Cured most things short of school,
It was worth ruining my eyes
To know I could still keep cool,
And deal out the old right hook
To dirty dogs twice my size.
Later with inch thick specs,
Evil was just my lark:
Me and my cloak and fangs
Had ripping times in the dark
The woman I clubbed with sex!
I broke them up like meringues.
Don't read much now: the dude
Who lets the girl down before
The hero arrives, the chap
Who's yellow and keeps the store,
Seem far too familiar. Get stewed:
Books are a load of crap.
Told like only the Irish can tell it, poet Phillip Larkin. The Irish, way more human than the rest! They were dropped on the planet by God for relief and humor, as His personal Jesters. They have set the mark for humanness and affability!
This poem sums it up for me, laugh!...hahahah! Books...crap!!!!!!