To E. Expostulating on an Arrangement of Shakespeare's Sonnets

Lorn A Clendon

Damn you, you have opened the door
And let the wind in;
The air is moving everywhere;
The curtain moves;
My papers rustle and are scattered about the room;
The window rattles,
The carpet's strewn with flowers,
The walls are freed and billow in and out;
The whole place is in motion, fluid, and disarranged
By this sudden rush of air,
And the pleasant smoke screen now
Is quite destroyed.
All this because my Shakespeare's Sonnets
Have been arranged by a logician.