This is the house of the closet-man. There are no rooms,
just hallways and closets.
Things happen in rooms. He does not like things to
happen . . . Closets, you take things out of closets,
you put things into closets, and nothing happens . . .
Why do you have such a strange house?
I am the closet-man, I am either going or coming, and I
am never sad.
But why do you have such a strange house?
I am never sad . . .
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a plain boo radley guy.what an effect he would have when god spoke it so, 'be fruitful and multiply'.