II

2 0 00

II

Hail to you

Bad little boy

Lying

In bound beauty

Of only a broken leg

And thank you

For throwing

Your bricks on the floor

For the third time

And the smack

You gave me

For the thermometer

Delightfully male

Already gallant

You smooth the mackintosh

For Elena to sit on beside you

Her fragility

Being irresistibly for you

You are very wise

Precocious coquette

Who never learnt to talk

To look at him

Before

Your semi-imbecile

Eyes shut

It is not given to each of us

To be desired.