SLIPPING IN SOME HISTORIC SNIFFS
Spring came in a picnic basket
I rolled over in the freshly mowed grass
A poet was let off his leash near the jungle gym
The woods were crackling with new life
Solitude began more provocative by dusk
A squirming mouse took a right turn at the cattails
I was not ready for Dante in adolescence.
My sophomore history teacher expected me to master the Inferno.
My sophomore German teacher expected me
to get higher than 80% on vocabulary tests in order to pass
Baudelaire still was not ready for my menagerie
The air had escaped its cage before Ovid came home
Paris had some new palaces in the spring season
Pasadena had a touch of melancholy going majestic
Evening had all the charm of a poet in bliss
Rimbaud took a whole season for an experiment in Hell
Green water went delirious on a Friday in May
The doctor called to ask me about a bone job
Solomon walked into oblivion before PBS could see color
I had so many major loves go south before I could
Identify any landmarks that could find an impassible river
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