using System; interface
ISerializable [ void SaveData(); ]
interface IDataStore [ void SaveData(); ]
class Test : ISerializable, IDataStore [ public void SaveData() [
Console.WriteLine("Test.SaveData called"); ] ]
class NameCollisions2App [ public static void Main() [
Test test = new Test(); if (test is ISearializable) [
Console.WriteLine("ISerializable is implemented"); ]
if (test is IDataStore) [ Console.WriteLine("IDataStore is implemented"); ] ] ]
l§§§l

Come Radishes, rosy against your greens,
crisp when I am soft with weakness.
I, what there is of me, may be argued:
but you may not. Your whole self struts,
your leafiness flutters about your head
like a crown of doves
No radish was ever terrified.
Our bodies flicker
Toward extinction in those eyes
Which, without him, were beggared
Of place, time, and their bodies,
Emulous spirits make discord,
Try entry, enter nightmares
Until his chisel bequeaths
Them life livelier than ours,
A soldier repose than death's.

Who burned cigarette holes in their arms protesting
the narcotic tobacco haze of Capitalism,
who distributed Supercommunist pamphlets in Union Square
weeping and undressing while the sirens of Los
Almos wailed them down, and wailed down Wall, and
the Staten Island ferry also wailed ...
Too soon the huntsman will come.
He will bring me the heart of a wild boar
and I in error will have it salted and cooked
and I in malice will eat it bit by bit
thinking it yours.
And as we both know, at the appropriate moment,
I will be consumed by an inexorable fire
as you look on.
I need a witness!
I need a witness!
I need a witness because I take up space!
Recognition
is only the beginning ..
My house will be your house there will be no houses
We will be hungry for one another
We will know weree the food is
I need a witness!...
"Oh, I want to go home,"
"Don't be silly, surely you haven't forgotten about the Seven Champions'
and all the princes."
It keeps eternal whispering around
Desolate shores, and with its mighty swell
Gluts twice ten thousand caverns, till the spell
Of Hecate leaves them their old shadowy sound.
Often 'tis in such gentle temper found,
That scarcely will the very smallest shell
Be moved for days from where it sometime fell,
When last the winds of Heaven were unbound.
Oh ye! whose ears are dinned with uproar rude,
Or fed too much with cloying melody -
Sit ye near some old cavern's mouth and brood,
Until ye start, as if the sea-nymphs quired!
-------
end.