Zz 320 My Loves Multiply
Poem By Edward Wright Haile
Chance has convened and my loves multiply.
So what to do should one of them tonight
come knocking, say, and several others lie
asleep in various angles of delight?
If she should take offense, I will be stung.
I don’t know what love is. A miracle?
It cannot be examined, only sung
with my whole heart! Where is my oracle?
Or should she not be, what can I assume
but that her love life is as rife as mine?
—which lends disgusting scent unto her bloom
and that leaves nothing in the other wine.
Tonight I will get up and chase her down
and just the two of us drive out of town.