Ah, but what glorious courage of ol'
their polygynous tales of polygyny told
Yet, seemed only an instant-broker passsing precious,
questionable heresy?
Enigma be, all on call to perish in pith or pitfall,
in Poly's caress, lush magnitde in her Southern drawl:
"Yon ragged Monog, from on his horny thorn
besmirched, smitten through wind, bright sun, and snow,
speaks hunger of me all men would know:
" ' True, twas thee sweet Poly who first upon mine cognizance
did prick and sway,
perturbing gaiety, frailty, my soul to pay.
" 'And comes now a whiff of thee to scatter me -- which way?
" ' Oh, blessed is he in whom a hint of that polygynous feast
is rent
By thy strong, prolonged monogynous scent.' "
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment