Marianne Moore




Love in America—

Whatever it is, it’s a passion—
a benign dementia that should be
engulfing America, fed in a way
	the opposite of the way
in which the Minotaur was fed.
It’s a Midas of tenderness;
	from the heart;
nothing else. From one with ability
to bear being misunderstood—
	take the blame, with “nobility
	that is action,” identifying itself with
	pioneer unperfunctoriness

	without brazenness or
	bigness of overgrown
	undergrown shallowness.

Whatever it is, let it be without
	affectation.

Yes, yes, yes, yes.