To the editors:
ADIEU, QUEEN VICTORIA
[Hot Type, August 17]
On subway posters, so banal,
To be seen by one and all
Are dreams that gave a bygone age
Tremors of ecstasy and howls of rage.
Burton's books were cruelly burned,
Oscar Wilde was jailed and spurned.
They're stirring gaily in the grave,
To think the CTA (how brave!)
Has now placed in open sight
Dreams of dark Victorian night--
Those dusky youths that share strange joys,
The soft red lips of handsome boys . . .
In our more enlightened days,
The perfumed garden is for public gaze,
And the only thing that kissing kills
Is the secrecy of hidden thrills.
For the sins that lurked in Dorian's picture
No longer meet with society's stricture
And thoughts that once sent men to Hell
Can now be posted on Chicago's El.