James Daniel
Faithful as the figs and dates
that fed our lord, our love should
in faith in tandem be; mates
that vows in heaven took could,
I remember, not equal ours.
Something better should come
of my words, my simple powers--
my simple words, now dumb
in the mouth of a public in
rapture with the novel.
Thus, forced to this ultimate sin,
I, within this hovel
Called home, of the blood from this nose,
Am forced to turn to prose.