Some Edits

Poor trait d'une Femme - Ezra Pound (he won't mind)

Your mind and you are our Sargasso Sea - 
London has swept about you this score year s
And bright right ships left you this or that in fee see:
Ideas, old gossip, odd extra(excre)ments of all things,
Strange Trained spars of knowledge and dimmed canned wares of price vice.
Great Rate minds have sought you - lacking someone else.
You have been second always, on second thought. Tragical?
No. You preferred it to the usual causal thing:
One dull man, dulling and luxurious orious.
One averaged mind - with one thought less, each year.
Oh, you are patient, I have seen you sit
(H)ours, where something might have floated up:
And now you play one. Yes, you richly pay Richly paid -
You are a person of some interest, one comes to you
and takes strange gain game away:
Trophies fished up; some a curious suggestion:
Fact that leads nowhere; and a tale but a scale or two.
Pregnant with mandrakes A pitcher plant, or a break with something else
That might prove useful and yet never approves proves,
That never fits a corner or shows for use,
Or And finds its hour upon the loom of days daze:
The t varnished, gaudy, wonder ful fold work;
Idols and ambergris waxed and rare in delays,
These are your some riches, your great store; and yet
For all this sea see-hoard of deciduous things,
Strange woods half sodden logs, and new brighter stuff:
In the slow sort float of differing light and deep bleep,
No! There is nothing! In the whole and all,
Nothing that's quite all right, your own,
Yet this is youth.