Poems From Providence - The Poet's Press

The combinations were shocking
as species crossed species.
All was confusion: the male
entwining the male,
the females in Sapphic frenzy,
the bee inventing new cravings
as fast as leaf and flower
could furl to them.
The orgy spread to the parlor and beyond.
A cloud of spores surrounded the ferns.
The potted palm uprooted itself.
The willow leaves ached against windows.
The hedges danced and disentangled,
exchanging partners, forgetting
their proper place and station.
(The gardener will be most alarmed!)
Between the bricks of the sidewalk
the sighing moss undulated.
Only the poor drowned tealeaves
seemed unaffected by yearning.
Inert and passive they lay there,
staining the antique porcelain,
submitting to cautious sampling,
to the neglectful cooling
in the lengthy subjunctive clauses
the minister began and abandoned.
“Ah me,” he sighed, apologizing.
He dropped a lump of sugar in his cup.
“I fear I’ve quite forgotten
the subject — what was I speaking of?”