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Allen Tate - More Sonnets At Christmas IV
Work rating: Low

Gay citizen, myself, and thoughtful friend,
Your ghosts are Plato`s Christians in the cave.
Unfix your necks, turn to the door; the nave
Gives back the cheated and light dividend
So long sequestered; now, new-rich, you`ll spend
Flesh for reality inside a stone
Whose light obstruction, like a gossamer bone,
Dead or still living, will not break or bend.

Thus light, your flesh made pale and sinister
And put off like a dog that`s had his day,
You will be Plato`s kept philosopher,
Albino man bleached from the mortal clay,
Mild-mannered, gifted in your master`s ease
While the sun squats upon the waveless seas.
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