With our apologies to Poets.org
Illustration by Eliza Koch.
When proud-pied April, dressed in all his trim,
Hath put a spirit of youth in everything,
Spring is like a perhaps hand.
With richness; the racing lambs too have fair their fling.
What is all this juice and all this joy?
(which comes
carefully out of Nowhere)
arranging a window,
into which people look(while people stare)
I go off and have sexual intercourse.
A Peacock in Spring
Makes derangéd love
To the muddy hill.
The woman is the woman I love.
Now, America, you press your lips to mine,
Feel on your lips the throbbing of my blood.
You can no longer quiet me with the redness
Of little leaves opening stickily.
in the east when its spring
boy are you ready for it if you lived in new york city
or upstate new york about 130 miles north of the city
they enter the new world naked,
cold, uncertain of all save that they enter.
I say to the flower stand man:
Beautiful flowers at your flower stand, man.
And much it grieved my heart to think
What man has made of man,
and you didn’t feel much better about it
because the sky was still gray and cold
and the trees were still bare.
This post may contain affiliate links.
