Two virtues ride, by stallion, by nag, <br />To grind our knives and scissors: <br />Lantern-jawed Reason, squat Common Sense, <br />One courting doctors of all sorts, <br />One, housewives and shopkeepers. <br /> <br />The trees are lopped, the poodles trim, <br />The laborer's nails pared level <br />Since those two civil servants set <br />Their whetstone to the blunted edge <br />And minced the muddling devil <br /> <br />Whose owl-eyes in the scraggly wood <br />Scared mothers to miscarry, <br />Drove the dogs to cringe and whine <br />And turned the farmboy's temper wolfish, <br />The housewife's, desultory.<br /><br />Sylvia Plath<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-death-of-myth-making/
