I do not trust roses
        arrayed in a gift box
        much as I crave them.
        I drink deeply of their
        rareified perfume
        but please forgive me if
        I also choose
        not to unwrap them.

        A lump of coal will
        fare no better
        and I can dig up stones
        anytime, to hit myself.
        All of these I keep
        piled in my back yard
        (the weeds are fairly
        flame-retardent).

        Most welcome surprise
        architectural analysis
        complete with a few nails
        and spare planks
        to shore things up myself:
        someone could see
        the outlines of
        what I was trying to build.


                        -ACM
                        8-2-95