Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=530665" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>On the Second Day</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=530665" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">On the second day, <br>The moth still sat, inert, <br>In the bowl of the urinal—<br>Still wedged between<br>The plastic of grating<br>Of the puck cover, <br>Still caressing<br>The deodorizing cake<br>That bakes in the warmth<br>Of several daily golden fountains: <br>In something personal.<br>By this time, <br>It had wings like wet, <br>Waxy tissue paper, <br>Folded to its body, <br>Which shribbled in <br>The humid, faux-sterile <br>Air.<br>The moth looked a paler shade, <br>Its skin warping to a half-way<br>Transparent wrinkle, <br>To a putrefied fold<br>Of dissolving empty space.<br>The poor moth.<br>I felt bad for it.<br>I tried to flush it again<br>To no avail, <br>So what else could I do? <br>I had to aim at the target<br>And take it down, <br>Sinking it momentarily<br>In the warmth of whatever<br>Left me, <br>Whatever traces of yerba mate<br>And morning shake might've<br>Percolated out<br>At 11: 14.<br>No offense to you, dear insect.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Tim+Stensloff">Tim Stensloff</a></strong></div>