A Poem

"One must protest all common men who might
give poison to a child. One must contest
all use of slang. One must protest all spite
engendered by protesting all unrest.
Sir. SIR, I say. One must protest the sight
of shirts untucked, unpolished shoes, and messed
up beds left long unmade. One must, despite
all threats, protest all sins left unconfessed.
One must protest against the day, the light
that shines on only some. One must attest
to those unseen long covered by the night.
One must protest all those who won't protest.
One must protest the ones who close their eyes,
Who choose to dismiss truth and feast on lies."

A Poem

"Like Sunday school 'round here," muttered the youth,
Having the attributes of a pickle.
(Which, knowing Pynchon, could be an uncouth
Boner joke, the vulgar's tastes to tickle.)
More likely Pynchon just wants us to grok
Chick's vinegary peevish attitude.
(But should we rule out mention of a cock,
Ignore Pynchon's go-to and seem a prude?)
When I see Pynchon mention hard and long
Objects, I think of some dark library
Where boys titter huddled in a small throng
Finding dirty jokes in Blume and Cleary.
Penis jokes abound, great ones and moaners.
Was Frost's "Birches" about gay boys' boners?