from a new book I bought last night on the way to Chicago…

“There’s nothing more debauched than thinking….

Nothing’s sacred for those who think.

Calling things brazenly by name,

risque’ analyses, salacious syntheses,

frenzied, rakish chases after bare facts….”

“They prefer the fruits

from the forbidden tree of knowledge

to the pink buttocks found in glossy magazines….”

“During these trysts of theirs the only thing steamy is the tea.

People sit on chairs and move their lips.”

[or sit at computers and move their fingers]

from Wistawa Szymborska, Poems New and Collected 1957-1997, Harcourt, 1998, p208. She is Polish, was born in 1927, won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1996.