I picked a thought from
The spring it was basking in;
Cleansing the scales of its weight and pumping
Water along the paints of its palette.
It wasn’t happy to be
Manhandled so, but as it had
Been lurking an eternity, and worrying the other
Sentiments of my members club, I didn’t care.
I was prepared for its
Patronage, its big fish misery;
It had exactly the turned down surliness I was after;
Just the reluctance my booking required:
Aloof but with the
Right amount of decoration
To prove acuity, and encourage clergy to flourish in
Honour of whoever happens to bear it.
And when application
Of its makeup was complete
I was ready for anything you could throw against me;
Prepared to repel your slipperiest kisses.
And struck out against
My denial you lied about your
Intentions and left me alone, and I, like every child does,
Returned my stillness to its millpond.