Astonishments
You don’t want just astonishments. They bore
You, not at first, but thrills of newness nag
Away until in later years the gore
Of slashing at the lovely starts to drag
Your feelings down and then at last you wish
For something basic, true instead. The spot,
That beauty spot, applied with careful swish
Upon the lady boy’s cheek, is not
Of interest your life. You want the green
And other boring colors of your home
In childhood. Special effects and obscene
New titillation look like scummy foam
At best. You want a solid view that you
Can trust like mother sitting in your pew.