With imagined hoofs I spurn the earth, (For actual hoofs I've lacked from birth) And kick up the soil for all I'm worth, For spring is in my spine, O! I raise the fins of a psychic state, (For inheriting fins I was born too late) And fan the hair on my mermaid's pate, For spring is in my spine, O! I ruffle the feathers that grow in my brain, (Exterior feathers I cannot attain) And tickle a nose when I should refrain, For spring is in my spine, O! I kink the tail within my mind, (For a tail of my own I cannot find) And gambol gay where conventions bind, For spring is in my spine, O! With mental horns I scratch my back, (For physical horns I sadly lack) And butt a hole in the beaten track, For spring is in my spine, O! I buds within my head beget, (A thing no mortal has ever done yet) And bloom on the grave of etiquette, For spring is in my spine, O! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE GIANTS OF HISTORY by JAMES GALVIN SOMEBODY LOVED ME by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE ROAD TO AVIGNON by AMY LOWELL |