how not to use a girl

every man, yellow, brown,
woman too, surely ought
to know how not, an’ tune
your ears, to use a June.

if you find a girl, say
at your door in a box,
wooden, in tissue wraps,
maybe blue, greenish swans

floating on blueish lakes,
groom’d with redbrown bow,
do not let winds of rage
blow your pale hands or beige

belt on my soft tan skin.
do not, in heav’n’s name, by
calloused hands, cunning tongue
ever take ‘tever’s mine.

not my will. not my drawers.
do not don me in dark

petticoats stitch’d, hemmed
trimmings of rifles, balls,
as a god soothe with the
Dev’l’s snare or dirge. do not,

i plead, use me at all,
for not a stud bred for
gaining more, akin to
polished crowns only for

reign am i. i am as
all men as i am a