The Cambridge ladies who live in furnished souls
are unbeautiful and have comfortable minds
( also, with the church's protestant blessings
daughters, un scented shapeless spirited)
they believe in Christ and Longfellow, both dead
are invariably interested in so many things_
at the present writing one still finds
delighted fingers knitting for the is it Poles?
Perhaps. While permanent faces coyly bandy
scandal of Mrs. N and Professor D.
...the Cambridge ladies do not care, above
Cambridge if sometimes in its box of
sky lavender and cornerless, the
moon rattles like a fragment of angry candy…
