34Camden, United States
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My self-summary
(Former farmer and sometimes resident of China, I now work remotely for an app for depression. I wander in the woods a lot, speak a couple languages, and bike everywhere. And despite the name, I do both drink and eat meat. )

In April, when the yellow whinn,
Was out of doors, and I within,
And magpies nested in the thorn,
Where not a man of woman born
Might spy on them, save he be,
Content to bide indefinitely,
On Chaldon Heath hung from a pin,
A great man in a small thorn tree.
What I’m doing with my life
In April, when, as I have said,
The golden gorse was all in bloom,
And I confined to my room,
And there confined to my bed,
As sick as mortal man can be,
A lady came from over the sea,
All for to say good-day to me.
I’m really good at
All in a green and silver gown,
With half it's flounces in her hand,
She came across the windy down,
She came, and pricked the furrowed land
With heels of slippers made for town.
All for to say good-day to me.
Favorite books, movies, shows, music, and food
The Channel fog was in her hair,
Her cheek was cool with channel fog.
Pale cowslip, from the sloping hedge,
And samphire, from the salty ledge,
And the sweet myrtle of the bog,
She brought me as I languished there.
But of the blackthorn, of the blue sloe,
No branch to lay a body low.
Six things I could never do without
She came by way of Lulworth Cove,
She came by way of Diffey's farm,
All in a green and silver frock,
With half its flounces in her arm.
I spend a lot of time thinking about
She came to be my ditch and stile,
She came to me by heath and rake,
And many and many a flinty mile,
She walked in April for my sake.
On a typical Friday night I am
By the Bat's Head, at dusk she came,
When inland from the Channel drove
the fog, and from the Shambles heard,
the horn above the hidden Rock.
The most private thing I’m willing to admit
And startled many a wild sea-bird,
To fly unseen from Durdle Door,
And left the shore.
And took a path without a name,
That led to Chaldon, and so came
Over the down to Chydyok.
All for to say good day to me.
You should message me if
All for to tell me only this,
As she shook out her skirts to dry.
And laughed, and looked me in the eye,
And gave me two cold hands to kiss.
That I be steadfast, that I lie,
And strengthen, and forbear to die.
All for to say that I must be,
Son of my sires, who lived to see,
The gorse in bloom at ninety-three,
All for to say good-day to me.
The two of us