Dear Mona

What distress, the jay cries, too!

for fidelity, for Christmas holly,

for folly for theft and for faithlessness.

Heavy weighs what is left of cheer-

Mona and the Holy Ghost

throw fits and kiss and shiver, 

But Mona is the Holy Ghost!

haunting prayer and reason,

glory eyes and a cinnimon tongue. 

caged in parisian shadow,

she lies and lies and lies. 

Mona digs up fyodor

twirls and swirls and unfurls him,

while the organ chatters its teeth.

Stasia crafts her puppets,

distasteful-made to hush!

And down about a block,

violets were dropped onto the street,

from an empty hand to another,

to a garbage, a holiday, a treason,

for Mona, our queen, our Holy Ghost.