A man with a punk hair
is reading his pocket Bible
I tried to “read” from inches away
while a full breast is pressed
against my side.
The insinuating arrows
Remind me of a fire-hot verse:
The sperm of our long woes,
our large disgrace.
But Man, that offspring of corrupting Clay,
Subject to Err, and Subject to Decay:
In Hopes, Desires, Will, Power, a numerous Train,
Uncertain, Fickle, Impotent and Vain:
Must tire the Heav'nly Muse with endless Prayer,
And call the smiling Angels to his care.
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