"when a breakdown in the ambiance hurled it out there  
that my pussy was the knob on a suitcase in an atrium

or a sack of potatoes or a teeny pile, perchance, of snow."

"and 'God strike them dead!'
the old folks cried, 'if they ever
come into this house and corrupt
the children!' who were stealing
cigarettes & loose change and even..."

"Lucky my legs were strong
since those crenellated ramparts
took some walking
to get me back seven centuries ago."