All aspiring young
milder weather poem
and prose writers
are herein advised
to take
special notice—of how
even in the innocent
and
strawyellow dawn
of this as-yet
unpolluted
promise of the new virgin
season—there gestates
something
pretty dirty—
in the shy furtive way
in which a few
more green shocks
of would-
be tulips
and crocuses
exist
than could be caught hocking-
up their tiniest bulbs—here
at this same
muddy time and place yesterday;
and—more importantly
of just
how exquisitely this consideration
constitutes
indisputable proof—that virginity
and some other word
you'll be tempted
to invoke
like chastity—stand
about as far apart
from each
other—semantically
as formal spring
from raw
unfettered springtime.
