I'm an old man and I'm tired and I'm disgusted
with human affairs. But Sketch our rat terrier
doesn't disgust me and the butterflies that returned
to our bush this summer don't disgust me, nor
the birds at the feeders off our deck. D. H. Lawrence
said all this more eloquently than I can in a poem
about living with animals, and I get some comfort
that my disgust is not a personal hallucination.
Sartre said hell is other people, which I believe
is true, but heaven is too. The obvious lesson
is be careful who you hang with. Very careful.
