Page:The Man Who Died Twice (1924).djvu/44

 There was not much forgetting; and since then

Only one year was gone. Before that glass

He must have sat for more than a long hour,

Hurling the worst of his vocabulary

At his offending image. “Now you have learned

A part of what you are,” he told his face,

“And you may say whatever occurs to you

As an addendum. You deficient swine,

Where do you see the best way out of it?

You are not crazy enough to cut your throat;

You are not solid enough to shoot yourself.

There’s always water, but you don’t like that;

And you're not sure enough of what might happen

If you should inadvertently have swallowed

A few small pills. But there’s another way—

A longer and a more monotonous one,

Yet one that has no slight ascendency