O Hell

Mina Loy

1882 to 1966

Poem Image

To clear the drifts of spring
Of our forebear's excrements
And bury the subconscious archives
Under unaffected flowers

Indeed—

Our person is a covered entrance to infinity
Choked with the tatters of tradition

Goddesses and Young Gods
Caress the sanctity of Adolescence
In the shaft of the sun.

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