texts: No.
labels: Black Irishman.  Very moving. "Turning and turning in the widening gyre / The falcon cannot hear the falconer / Things fall apart, the center cannot hold / Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world / And everywhere the ceremony of innocence is drowned / The best lack all conviction, while the worst are full of passionate intensity" ... But it ends so beautifully ominous -- "What rough beast, its hours come round at last / Slouches toward Bethlehem to be born?" ... Yes, this country stands at such a juncture.