What is it that you like? You come & go
With news of Rubens & Correggio
And Jove’s outrageous rapes, Ovidian themes
Of revelation where the lover seems
By being a bird, or coins, or cloud, to show
Indifference to that process which we know
Requires in girls a sprawl of pinks & creams
Pure theatre, wilful, impossible!
I linger in a room of Breughels, lost
To turnip children stout in winter clothes
Whose gods do not descend in poses full
Of lewd intent, but live in games & frost
And peasant weddings with their clogs & oaths
John Fuller
