The Tyger A Poem by William Blake www.poetryfoundation.org Tyger Tyger burning bright, In the forests of the night: What immortal hand or eye, Dare frame thy fearful symmetry? It's a Magical World
But we're not there A Fragment by Alan Jacobs hedgehogreview.com Get your fucking hands up Get on out of your seats All eyes on me, all eyes on me ...But we’re not there. There’s a cheering-audience soundtrack, but it’s fake, Burnham knows it’s fake, he’s the one who put it there. He doesn’t know whether we’re watching, whether our hands are up, whether all eyes are on him. Bo Burnham: Inside