PREENINGS
I preen myself....
I ...
Always do ...
My ego expanding encompasses ...
Everything, naturally....
This bird preens himself ...
It is our only likeness....
Ah, God, I want a Ghetto
And a Freud and an alley and some Immigrants calling names ...
God, you know
How awful it is....
Here are trees and birds and clouds
And picturesquely neat children across the way on the grass
Not doing anything
Improper ...
(Poor little fools, I mustn't blame them for that
Perhaps they never
Knew How....)
But oh, God, take me to the nearest trolley line!
This is a country landscape—
I can't stand it!
God, take me away—
There is no Sex here
And no Smell!
Edna St. Vincent Millay
(Recites in a flippant voice which occasionally chokes up with irrepressible emotion, and clenching her hands tensely as she notices that the Grackle has hopped twice.)