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A newsletter about rejiggered classics, transmasculine underpinnings of the plucky heroine, and the failure-limits of graciousness, from table manners to family estrangement.
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Come and batter my heart
O’erthrow me and bend
That I may rise and stand and admit you
So you’ll seek to mend!
I’m like an unsurp’d town
I’ve proved weak and untrue
I’m a lovable space that needs your face
Three-person’d God, you!
Your viceroy Reason defends in me –
I’m still to another due –
Jail me, take me to you –
Chaste-ravish me too!
That One John Donne Poem But To The Tune Of "Three's Company"
I've been dating a catholic, and sang this out loud before he'd had his coffee.
My English professor called this "Donne's poem about being raped by God."