<h2>TALK</h2>
<h3>BY JOHN PAUL</h3>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">It seems to me that talk should be,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Like water, sprinkled sparingly;<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Then ground that late lay dull and dried<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Smiles up at you revivified,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">And flowers—of speech—touched by the dew<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Put forth fresh root and bud anew.<br/></span>
<span class="i0">But I'm not sure that any flower<br/></span>
<span class="i0">Would thrive beneath Niagara's shower!<br/></span>
<span class="i0">So when a friend turns full on me<br/></span>
<span class="i0">His verbal hose, may I not flee?<br/></span>
<span class="i0">I know that I am arid ground,<br/></span>
<span class="i0">But I'm not watered—Gad! I'm drowned!<br/></span>
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