For my Susana first I write this verse,
and hope that she will think it finely wrought.
To please her I'd commit a dithyramb or worse
but it's no use -- she quickly sees my thought.
For she knows things of me that I don't see
and hears from me the things I have not said,
but which are there, unwhispered though they be,
deep-recessed and hidden in my head.
And though I wrap myself all tightly furled
in garments richly woven of self-praise,
to prance before my mirror and the world,
yet I stand free and naked to her gaze.
I cannot lie to her, although I try;
she answers to my meaning, not the lie.
Copyright 1986 Geoffrey Fox,14 E.4th St.,#812,New York NY 10012