from (C)OVID'S METAMORPHOSIS, Book the Third

The Birth of Bacchus

In a risqué dinner theater,

I’ll have the risoto while 

the maenads tear apart a wholesome 

day-trading man like

yesterday’s poké.  Poke a wasp’s nest

with a pool cue & out comes

cumin, & O to be youth’s 

shoot instead of mild favor curried

as the comedic relief.

Wait in the twilit field & listen 

for the din come from down

the mountain, feral & lilting 

like the songs of youth 

etched on your headstone.

The Transformation of Tiresias

Coax the lobbyists into the forest

one by one like a thousand Elmer Fudds

& let them each get bitten by the radioactive 

rabbit - a silly trick, yes, as the funny

bunny puckers up while wearing

his sexiest dress.  Who could be blind 

to the two serpents writhing underfoot 

while the coyote offers you 

his new business card? It reads, 

I DISAPPEAR FOR FOOLS
on both sides. Seagulls, stop it now

for I have my stick & my dreadful lawn

full of red ants, rusty nails & shallow 

graves.