PROVOCATIONS

I am no merry monger when

I see the slatterns of the town:

I hate to think of docile men

Whose angers all are driven down;

For sluts make joy a thing obscene,

And in contempt is nothing clean.

I like to see the ladies walk

With heels to set their chins atilt:

I like to hear the clergy talk

Of other clergy’ s people’ s guilt;

For happy is the amorous eye,

And indignation clears the sky.