Somehow Pale American girls who would have come Here to Rome on the Grand Tour The sun driving bright nails flat into their red hair Are here now and also in 1887 when They were hovered over by immense mothers Who sneezed while powdering their bosoms And complained when no one blessed them (Their fathers let them get away with anything) Once back home they’d be married off To men ten years older Men who’d learned a thing or two In the brothels of say Bristol All of it something straight out of Henry James Who knew them in fact or girls like them Holding in their pale hands fans that opened To show pleated scenes of demur geishas Who sat still as statues in boxes at the opera Freckles thick as stars on shoulders He wouldn’t see until their wedding night Whispering My God I am not worthy to come Under your roof but only say the word and Yet somehow here they also are in 2024 Their fans have turned into the phones They open at every intersection The same sun hammering at their red hair
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Somehow
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Somehow Pale American girls who would have come Here to Rome on the Grand Tour The sun driving bright nails flat into their red hair Are here now and also in 1887 when They were hovered over by immense mothers Who sneezed while powdering their bosoms And complained when no one blessed them (Their fathers let them get away with anything) Once back home they’d be married off To men ten years older Men who’d learned a thing or two In the brothels of say Bristol All of it something straight out of Henry James Who knew them in fact or girls like them Holding in their pale hands fans that opened To show pleated scenes of demur geishas Who sat still as statues in boxes at the opera Freckles thick as stars on shoulders He wouldn’t see until their wedding night Whispering My God I am not worthy to come Under your roof but only say the word and Yet somehow here they also are in 2024 Their fans have turned into the phones They open at every intersection The same sun hammering at their red hair