How Doth the Little Crocodile
How doth the little crocodile
Improve his shining tail,
And pour the waters of the Nile
One every golden scale!
How cheerfully he seems to grin,
How neatly he spreads his claws,
And welcomes little fishes in
With gently smiling jaws!
I’ve thought of another poem sparked from an article I read in The New Yorker called At the Train Bridge by Calvin Trillin. The part that stayed with me was the quote that ended the piece, “The beauty of that place has been cursed by my actions. My memorial is made out of iron and concrete.”