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The multiple responses must not have sounded like music.

I concluded that my feelings of superiority weren't getting me
To the pleasant feelings, so I stopped saying no.
I was quiet a long time.

Or: there was an image, a correct answer.

It's about now that I want to praise quesadillas.
Or sing about an armadillo, or perhaps a monkey.

Be yourself: if only it worked that way.
To thyself be -- what, enough?

Enough. It is foggy and dark, and the bakery
Is making both a fantastic racket
And an aroma of burning wheat.

It is true. Good old it.

Make the language believe itself for a change.