Sonnets
A friend of Constable said Virgil’s sense
He gained from culture drove him to presume
That prime boys were “the height of excellence.”
This point was made in tones of sneering fume,
As if bad smoke made in a third-rate pipe
Had found its way into the friend’s choked throat
And he was now expelling it in ripe
Disgust. This wise man then went on to gloat
That Virgil “was a farthing candle” when
Compared to Shakespeare. But, hey, wait! Doesn’t
That imply William wasn’t keen on . . . men?
That Shakespeare’s church was women? It wasn’t.
The Dark One used him like a voodoo toy.
The one he was in love with was the boy.