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Two Loves The backhoe braces itself against itself with two flat feet, and fights its appetite—I love that shovel undermining just the terra firma which its hinder parts rely on. So the man in me is making inroads everywhere (great cities rise where he has wrecked the gardens) while the woman in me counterbalances his head-strong ways by staying her ground, with equal force. The latitudes of play are ampler for the rules; the clouds look clearer in a lake than not; did poets live this long to practise birth control? Excited by a simile, they take the indecorum of a stagnant ditch, and make a mirror of it. Meanwhile it's the backhoe man who reads. At lunch he hunches over his Inquirer, which is full of spiritual facts of life, like MALE GIRL GETS SELF PREGNANT, and he loVCS it. i58 ...

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