Author Burton Watson I block out the midday brightness with a screen depicting dark woods,burn a stick of heavy incense, nursing my hangover.What's this? As evening comes I'm ready for a drink again!Beyond the wall I hear the cry of someone selling clams. Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments