Any Size We Please Poem By Robert Frost,
No one was lookIng at his lonely case,
So like a half-mad outpost sentmel,
IndulgIng an absurd dramatIc spell,
AlbeIt not wIthout some shame of face,
He stretched hIs arms out to the dark of space
And held them absolutely parallel
In mfinIte appeal. Then sayIng, ‘Hell’
He drew them in for warmth of self-embrace.
He thought If he could have his space all curved
Wrapped in around itself and self-befnended,
His science needn’t get him so unnerved.
He had been too all out, too much extended.
He slapped his breast to verify his purse
And hugged himself for all his universe.