fingers of prurient philosophers

I just pulled out our textbook from senior year Lit with Mrs. C. because I wanted to see about using one of the short stories for my ethics class last semester. So sweet to open it up to this:





O sweet spontaneous


O sweet spontaneous
earth how often have
the 
doting


fingers of
prurient philosophers pinched
and
poked


thee
, has the naughty thumb
of science prodded
thy


beauty, how
often have religious taken
thee upon their scraggy knees
squeezing and


buffeting thee that thou mightest conceive
gods
(but
true


to the incomparable
couch of death thy
rhythmic
lover


thou answerest


them only with


spring)


ee cummings




It's drizzling now and the crocuses are already starting to come up. Yesterday Julia and I sat outside and went for a nice, long walk. Sam and I ate outside, too, and talked about Rausch. I'll be home in two weeks. Oh, spring! I love it.