The Black Virginity

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The Black Virginity

Baby Priests

On green sward

Yew-closed

Silk beaver

Rhythm of redemption

Fluttering of Breviaries

Fluted black silk cloaks

Hung square from shoulders

Truncated juvenility

Uniform segregation

Union in severity

Modulation

Intimidation

Pride of misapprehended preparation

Ebony statues training for immobility

Anaemic jawed

Wise saw to one another

Prettily the little ones

Gesticulate benignly upon one another in the sun buzzвБ†вАФ

Finger and thumb circles postulate pulpits

Profiles forsworn to Donatello

Munching tall talk vestral shop

Evangelical snobs

Uneasy dreaming

In hermetically-sealed dormitories

Not of me or you Sister Saraminta

Of no more or less

Than the fit of PopeвАЩs mitres

It is an old religion that put us in our places

Here am I in lilac print

Preposterously no less than the world flesh and devil

Having no more idea what those are

What I am

Than Baby Priests of what вАЬHeвАЭ is

or they areвБ†вАФ

Messianic mites tripping measured latin ring-a-roses

Subjugated adolescence

Retraces loose steps to furling of Breviaries

In broiling shadows

The last with apostolic lurch

Tries for a high hung fruit

And misses

Anyway it is inedible

It is always thus

In the Public Garden.

Parallel lines

An old man

Eyeing a white muslin girlвАЩs school

And all this

As pleasant as bewildering

Would not eventually meet

I am forever bewildered

Old men are often grown greedyвБ†вАФ

What nonsense

It is noon

And salvationвАЩs seedlings

Are headed off for the refectory.