“Neat” as a Word of Approbation

The languor of the word “neat” settled like sun In a meadow, warming the green and the shimmer Of water along the depressions that were dimmer Under the gloss of spring. But the word was a sin, According to Cambridge or Windsor and Opinion Outstanding and honorific, like the height of summer Under Apollo. But Dionysus, as a western minion, Came off and down the wall, diagnosing that comer Like Freud. And he talked with a drawl like kin Of scalawag Billy or Jesse and rounded opinion in, In a blind black as a mourner for exiles Either east or west, Confederate or Union, But certainly harsh with his weapon of smiles, Oh, howdy.