Nearly breakfast, and the devil
Still comes visiting his poor tracts,
If not in person sends his unending evil
By messengers, the flow of letters
Spelling across the box his devil’s facts,
The hours’ cries, full milk-firstily.
He has the whole bowl now, parent’s departed
Who cannot control the order he tips,
The law permits
His wild libels, and his lips
Poised at the hungry ear
To whisper, when he wants, pathetic war
Or lay pathetic rumour.
The welcome devil comes to atone,
Steals what is best – homogeneous mixture -
Rapes, leaves to float (the goon!),
Counts on his spoon
All he has spilled in wonder,
The welcome devil comes invited,
Suspicious, but that soon passes,
They cry to be taken, and Devil separates
All that is found already mixed,
Leaves it among filthy used knives and the glasses.
-Dylan Thomas
