Success at any one thing is jaunty
Like being in love I think I shall
It'll make the sun bloom twice
This time it's for imagination, girls
With a shake & a preen & a shower of dust
This town never did like celebrities
The slow beat of words on the windowpane
A harmless answer to the day's pretensions
A tight weave at last with many knots
Arachne or Penelope? Just nameless, Little Mother
A vessel of clay and bile brimming over
This golem is woman, they cried
The rabbit! The rabbit! How stupid
Peasants are always like this, even in towns
High up where the whole shebang stretches before us
Just like a little street, but jaunty.