No other song
                 or swoop (part
     quiver, part swivel and
          plash) with
  tour de force
stray the course note
     liquefactions
  (its new,
bawdy air an
     aria hangs in) en-
thralls,
          trills, loops, soars,
               startles, out-warbles,
out-brawns, more
     juicily,
               lifts up
the dawn, outlaws from
                    sackcloth, the cool
   sloth of   bed sheets,
                         from pillows
         and silks
             and blue-quilted, feminine
bolsters, fusses
                   of coverlets;
                              nips as the switch
of   a juvenile willow, fuzz
              of a nettle, to
       window and window
                        and window and ever
                 toward egress, to
           flurry, pollen
and petal shed,
                        to wet street
  and wet pavement,
              all sentiment intemperate,
  all sentience
                       ephemeral.