Getting Het-up.
Why are you getting het-up,
He said, and moving your 1ips and your hands
Like that, and showing concern?
I hadn 't been thinking
of my lips and my hands
But now I did;
I was now in a world
Whore lips and hands and eyes
Were only furniture.
All I did was state an idea, he saidt
And if your mind is olear-
Why do you need the condemning look
And movement of hands?
It's beoause I'm concerned, I saide
An idaa I think wrong
Seeme to throaten my freédom,
And I get concerned.
Hy freedom's a terriblé concernt
I can't treat it'lightly.
Than why condemn, he saids
Why look at me
As if to throw stones?


I'm condemning untruth, I saids
I'm staring at untruth,
Not thinking of you.
But you look like a man
Who wanted to hit me, he said
With an anxious glance.
I don't want to hit you.
You seem to throw stones all the timo.
My stones are my truth,
I wish to throw
My ideass I want to persuade.
But I'm tired, tiredi Al1 my life
They've been looking at my 1ips
And my hands and the cut
Of my coat and my walk.
Why can't they listen
Only to what I say,
And look for the meaning
Like looking in the sky?
And now I get tired
And try to teach myself silence
And burn alone.
It im't vary nicet


Nor is your vehemence, he said with a smile,
And laid his hand on mino.
But now there was silence
And all my ideas
Had flown,
Whioh seemed to mako him feol better.