William Blake calls the Poetry Crisis Line

COUNSELOR     Poetry Crisis Line. What is your emergency?

CALLER:      Tyger!

COUNSELOR:      I’m sorry, did you say–

CALLER:      Tyger!

COUNSELOR:      Yes, I suppose you did. Are you sure? Do you have the lights on?

CALLER:      Burning bright.

COUNSELOR:      And where are you?

CALLER:      In the forest of the night.

COUNSELOR:      Is that near Hell’s Kitchen?

CALLER:      What

COUNSELOR:      Never mind. How do you feel at the moment?

CALLER:      Immortal

COUNSELOR:      That’s good. They can smell fear. I’m not sure if that’s synesthesia or a mixed metaphor, but they can. Is there something you can give the animal to distract him?

CALLER:      Hand

COUNSELOR:      Maybe something you don’t need as much.

CALLER:      or eye

COUNSELOR:      I was thinking something that isn’t, you know, attached. Do you think maybe you could…uh…could–

CALLER:      Could frame thy fearsome symmetry

COUNSELOR:      Actually, I’m kind of lopsided. Makes it hard to shop for bras.

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