Classic Poem

To go far wrong I don't see how you can,
I don't indeed, my little One-way man!
Yet, naturally, it is an artificial thing
To be the sort of One-way that I sing.
You can't help that. From time to time you get
That feeling that you're only half-there. Yet
What is the odds, as I remarked just now?
To be even half-there's not such a bad wow!
That " gorgeous" sense of being actual
In Front , that's worth a lot. In front you're real.
No one can take that from you. Be a FRONT,
A bold unblushing Frontispiece — a blunt,
A plain blunt Front Man, who's no orator
As Brutus is. A jolly old front-door.
And let the devil take your hindmosts what!
A god in front, behind, a vacant lot,
A Nomansland for trashbins, a nirvana:
But on your street-front sprout a proud symbolical banana.