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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=564500" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Mulatto Children</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=564500" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">How loudly the quietus barks, <br>Diana: Liquored up, lighting up the woods, <br>Our four legged body decorated by <br>Penumbra-<br>So far away the holocaust lamps of another sea, <br>These words I use, <br>Young goddess, one breasted, leaping at the <br>Form, <br>Airplanes bowing beneath her: <br>I see her sometimes as I am coming out of the gym, <br>Or when I am vacationing onto the<br>West part of Florida.<br>Archaeologists are gathering around her like kids<br>In daycare, <br>Undressing her splendiferous hip, <br>Speculating, <br>Speculating: Luscious bride of all the colors and<br>Elements, <br>Sometimes water and sometimes greening wood; <br>And now the cars are passing, streams of little girls: <br>What will you have for me today; <br>I will barter with balloons or bouquet; Or I would<br>Give it all for free, <br>If you stepped out of your silly forms, the way the aspens<br>Gather together in childish sorority; <br>And your hair is as dark as a lumberjack on his day of<br>Rest; <br>Diana: I am a good man, and I am coming into my full form, <br>And I just need your bosom for a crèche, <br>Your South-American womb for our beautiful, mulatto children.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Bret+R.+Crabrooke">Bret R. Crabrooke</a></strong></div>