Okay.

So this is a, this is a poem that's, um, comes out of a collection called Just One Thing, because every poem is about just one thing, and this is called Bent Wind.

"Bent wind.

They call it bent wind.

An old salt mutters after wind and face all day on the bay.

No matter which way one stands, first from east, then north, and somehow west, two directions simultaneously.

Boat heave hard and fast.

Anyway, go on.