William Butler Yeats calls the Poetry Crisis Line

COUNSELOR: Poetry Crisis Line, what is your emergency?
CALLER: I will arise and go now,

COUNSELOR: Already? But you just called.
CALLER: and go to Innisfree,

COUNSELOR: That sounds nice. Business or pleasure?
CALLER: And a small cabin build there,

COUNSELOR: So more of a permanent move? What kind of a cabin?
CALLER: of clay

COUNSELOR: Like a cliff dwelling?
CALLER: and wattles

COUNSELOR: Uh… like the skin under a turkey’s neck?
CALLER: made;

COUNSELOR: Under a maid’s neck?
CALLER: Nine bean-rows will I have there,

COUNSELOR: Wait… like fava beans? And a nice chianti?
CALLER: a hive for the honey-bee,

COUNSELOR: So, mead…
CALLER: And live alone

COUNSELOR: That’s not helping.
CALLER: in the bee-loud glade.

COUNSELOR: They won’t silence the voices! Please, let me put you in touch with someone who can help!

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