Emily’s neighbors, according to census data, 
 
Gone, none here now. Their presence was filled with compression, ideals opening a science of situation (Thoreau) and unobstructed white sky (Whitman) for unstructured joy, bouncing up years later with satiric multiples (Wieners, Ricard). Only yesterday! Literary worth automatically fills the page like scrub pine — from which tribe down the Cape? — becoming more fearless (less indiscernible) when units of innocence, acrobacy and self-neutering come together, vaunting in plainer American English, a context addressed by even gayer neighbors.