[lit-ideas] a spring poem

By e e cummings (hope the formatting comes across and yes I know it's not yet 
spring but it's about time it was. MN)<><><><><><><>O sweet spontaneous
earth how often have
the
doting
          fingers of
purient philosophers pinched
and
poked

thee
,has the naughty thumb
of science prodded
thy

      beauty      .how
oftn have religions taken
thee upon their scraggy knees
squeezing and

buffeting thee that thou mightest conceive
gods
        (but
true

to the incomparable
couch of death thy
rhythmic
lover

          thou answerest


them only with


                        spring)

 
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