'Tis very fit the ambrosia of the gods
Should be a weed on earth. As nectar is
The morning dew with which we wet our shoes
For the gods are simple folks and we should pine
Upon their humble fare
by Robert SundMy shack is ten by twelve.
Two bottles of saké
under the bed.
Hot soup on the stove,
and bread in the oven.
My auto harp tuned up and ready.
When friends come rowing up,
how big this ...