Wikipedia Poem, No. 623
“One thing there’s no getting by —
I’ve been a wicked girl,” said I;
“But if I can’t be sorry, why,
I might as well be glad!”
— Edna St. Vincent Milay
exiled we by dire storm born of a little sin gilled systems ill of theses mercy snaps its cloud like wicked birch scorched to mere mercy whose little sorrow judged in laodicean fire & ninety-five mph winds wouldn't weep nor re-use what will has transpired we debris storms list above and below in concomitant spore penitent processional committees of pine-lake door low-hung extremities destructive nature sum of hurricane below barometric pressure broken up intense most powerful spue and spire of named tropical storm surge impure glad impure