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Intrdoduction from New Poems - A poem by e.e. cummings - American Poems

The poems to come are for you and for me and are not for mostpeople— it’s no use trying to pretend that mostpeople and ourselves are alike. Most people have less in common with ourselves than the squarerootofminusone. You and I are human beings;most people are snobs. Take the matter of being born. What does being born mean to mostpeople? Catastrophe unmitigated. Socialrevolution. The cultured aristocrat yanked out of his hyperexclusively ultravoluptuous superpalazzo,and dumped into an incredibly vulgar detentioncamp swarming with every conceivable species of undesirable organism. Mostpeople fancy a guaranteed birthproof safetysuit of nondestructible selflessness. If mostpeople were to be born twice they’d improbably call it dying—


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