Report from Corinth

The Earth, & shall it ever be,
I am not ashamed of it,
I don't cover up its embarrassing bits with pavement.
Like vines, extending from every orifice,
Ashamed of it, that scientists & houris praise?
I hope its glories are allowed to self-perpetuate thru endless days.

Ashamed of the Earth?
Just as soon let the mermaid be ashamed of the midnight lagoon.
Just as soon let cheese-making nuns be ashamed of the moon.
Just as soon let my barbiturate-induced glossolalia fail to be perceived as sacred.

Ashamed of the natural Earth & his conceits?
No, I am not ashamed..
Sooner far let the Ghosts of Anchorage raid the bazaar,
Sooner far let them shun their bodies & the cheats' receipts,
Sooner far let evening disown its strangest star.

Ashamed of our ways, our hearth & our glorious days?
Am I ashamed of the resources with which I create my continuing heaven?
No, when I blush, be this my shame,
That I have forgotten to honor the ground from where I came.