I am Minerva， the village poetess，

    Hooted¹ at， jeered² at by the Yahoos of the street

    For my heavy body， cock-eye， and rolling walk，

    And all the more when "Butch" Weldy

    Captured me after a brutal³ hunt.

    He left me to my fate with Doctor Meyers；

    And I sank into death， growing numb⁴ from the feet up，

    Like one stepping deeper and deeper into a stream of ice.

    Will some one go to the village newspaper，

    And gather into a book the verses I wrote？

    I thirsted so for love！

    I hungered so for life！