A CYCLOPS EXPLAINS TO A STRANGER POLYPHEMUS' HOWLS every so often one of us here goes crazy even though he has everything he wants and has it for only a little easy work walk outside in the morning and the flocks follow sit in the shade all day and watch them fatten then sundown a walk back home picking up sticks as you go and once there brain a sheep and split it roasted meat fat on your tongue the flock safe in the pen looking on a life so good I would live it many times over if allowed a life of no law no bread and who would call for wine while the ewes' milk runs? yes a life so good you almost can't stand it so good that when the dark sorrow rises within your breast at brightest fullest noon or the depthless longing for something you can't name seizes you like a fit you feel robbed and wish to find the one who stole your peace and call him out the violating thief you might as well shout that no man's done this to you blame him for everything you feel howl at your friends and neighbors when they mock and pathetically throw stones into the sea