A painted lady on a fine white horse—

What Freudian edicts do there so convene!

But too enunciate aloud, of course,

Would be at best a slight—at worst, demean.

Not sitting in side-saddle might invite

Rebuke from psychoanalytic eyes,

Yet who of balanced conscience would indict

A belle upon a steed with open thighs?

Of human purpose when we so propose

Subconscious methods unto every act,

And reading thus between taut lines disclose

Attempts to thrust in bias, or redact;

Where courser stands a stallion or an ass,

More truth’s revealed in how we so assess.