Had been Attempted - by her Father -

Who Was my Father -

Olive Day Bramhall - Winifred Post -

And the Seniors - Weintraub, Cynthia -

And the one I Loved the Most -

Paiewonsky, Avna.

And the Lovers - Miss Math and Miss Latin -

And Ancient - Augusta Gottfried -

Whose Approval I Craved - but she saw

Into me - beneath the impostor.

And John Stuart Mill - those Sentences

In upward Thrust each Himalay -

And the Isaac Watts Music Box -

Tart Genius - Emily.

Berries of her Quatrogon

Running down - our Chin -

Presence of - another World -

This world - within.

Cream and Honey of her Rhyme -

Tomboy Accurate

With Sling and Stone -

Palpable Hit -

God one Target - Man another -

And New England Trochee Grove -

Alive with Radical Wit - and Eros -

Salt Tongue - and Groove.

She was our Girl - our Woman -

Man enough - for me - her Will

Adamant - we held her in Earthy

Celestial Respect, where I Hold Her Still

And she moves - when Held - like an Antibody -

Holding a Virus

From the Body Politic - To Dance It

Into Bliss - of Perish.

Amherst Ballad 2

You did not Sell - the Blueing -

Nor Toil with it - Wash Day -

Yours the Cerulean

Of Sky - and Brocade -

And now the Privilege comes -

To me - to make my Way -

By Subway - Train - Bus -

Into your home - into your Room

To look under your Bed - as When -

A Child, I Woke - under Mine -

Not knowing Why - what Fear or Whim

Divine - or Profane.

There may be no Dust there -

House - become Museum -

But if there were, ’twould be the Ghosts -

Of Creatures - Parts of them -

Barbs - Feet - Legs - Knees -

Arachnid - Parcel - Be -

Like Picnic - Basket - member -

Of Cancelled - Holiday -

And now I Ride - the Rails at Ease

(Who Never Rode - for Real) -

As Pilgrim - and as Decibel -

To you, who Made - the World

Perceptible to us, and no Less

Perilous - than Temporary -

Glory of the Cannot-Be -

the “Stay!”

What Beat - or Syncopate - could tell -

My Craving for - your Tale -

If not the ravish Counterpoint -

Your Calvin - Rock - and - Roll -

Amherst Ballad 3

I Did not Shave - to Visit your Town -

Though Hirsute - was my Jaw -

But Shocked the Root of each Moustache -

And turned - its Brine - To Lye.

Thus could - approach - your Door - and Knock -

With Smooth - and Beardless - Skin -

And not - a Barb’rous - Mien - insert -

Nor Hedgehog - Porcupine.

O to have known - as Pirate Girls -