Well, those are in the spirit. But funny, I could have sworn I posted something here yesterday saying I couldn't work out "Alterable Haze Index" and suggesting we post the initials of the poet if the title's a long one.
I do get "Tender Swoons". Good follow-on of poem from content.
HAY: A SEMEN USE
As a child, they could not keep me from cows’ udders
Swinging heavy, bursting with creamy milk,
The teats proud like the erections of boys,
Ripe for relieving hands in the strawed pen.
I loved the sour ashy smell of nannygoat dugs,
Like eating Liffy cream in the smoke of a peat fire
Or burnt toast with cunty fingers in the big barn.
I learned to squeeze the bagged, oozing curds —
Old Pat with his crook and his foreign learning
Called it Chevre, the tart, dry cheese, lumpy
Like stale porridge. But most of all I wanted
To set full udders swinging, see the beseech
In bovine eyes. All that may go to explain
Why even today I am something of a tit man.
(SH)
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