Who can tell us, Phaedrus,
what is good and what is not good
— and do we need anyone to tell us these things?
If Zeus puffed one small breath into your coat of flesh is there even a scrap of it that merits your or anyone’s contempt? Diana champion of virgins will get you a fine husband maybe two devoted and delighting lovers good work, good friends, laughter at your table children who always love you will you but spare your nose the knife A poetry of omissions of silences excisions Over Sloane Square the thin girls are pinned and pictured to the wall Under their commanding gazes do not exchange your beauty for the world’s Do not surrender Do not yield one fraction of an inch