Le Mot Juste

All the good and admirable
Things you do, all the stupid,
Mean, unkind, and wasteful

Things you do are what?
Besides the good opinion
Of someone whose good opinion

You can imagine matters
To you—God, your mother,
Your friends, the whole sick crew,

We’re not suggesting there’s no good
Or bad that you could do, just
That most, maybe all of it,

Is an indigestible knot of thought
In the entrails of your poor head,
Straining to put right names to it.