We Give Her, if You Can Believe It, Grapes

I think that's really part of what the poem is about, and that what else gets you to it gets us back to mona and that kind of notebook feeling. It feels very lush to me, even though it's blued the air like a sorrow, so absurd. And wringing lushness out of that seems one of the points yend, you have to believe it. We gave her, if you can believe it, grapes. Again, i didn't, i'm using colloquially hereike, if you conpirer seem so preposterous but right wel are they a are they butler's grapes?