Of Montreal- An Eluardian Instance

I will now insert my name into a Walt Whitman poem, just because it fits so nicely and I have nothing all that interesting to talk about.

O Catherine! My Catherine! our fearful trip is done,

The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won,

The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,

While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;

But O heart! heart! heart!

O the bleeding drops of red,

Where on the deck my Catherine lies,

Fallen cold and dead.

I really need to find something more productive to do with my free time.