Matthew Arnold, looking over The Channel from the cliffs of Dover, Scanned with his telescope almost The whole French coast As far as Étretat, And was upon the point of saying “Ah,” When he perceived, not far from the great Aiguille, A lobster led on a leash beside the sea. It was Nerval, enjoying his vacances! Alas for gravitas! Hélas for France! Having of late been panicky About culture and anarchy, Arnold now left in a hurry, Foreseeing a night of worry. http://www.newyorker.com/fiction/poetry/2010/05/03/100503po_poem_wilbur 簡單來說，我看無。 -- 就算是friend 最後還是會有個end 就算要fuck 起初也要有fu 就算是lover 最後還是會over 就算是believe 中間還是有個lie 就算是forget 也曾經有個get http://www.wretch.cc/blog/spacedunce5 --

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