September 13th, 2010


(no subject)


That one's curved headboard was tubular steel,
foot board as well. If you bounced, you could feel
Metal chain springs giving under your weight.
They got much use. I would go on a date

Bring someone back; not that many, I know,
not quite a slut. Still, as love affairs go,
one in those years can still hammer my heart,
one was just fun. But when true affairs start,

Loves that are serious, last love and best,
that's when a bed has to be there for rest,
eating your breakfast. For loving as well.
Love outlasts beds. The steel broke. I can tell

This new bed's sturdy and made out of wood -
won't last past love - but my life? it just could.


The original is short; my version is a bit longer.

A lioness more deadly than its male
Who roams the desert seeking to devour
All that it can. Its eyes have evil power
to paralyze. The lashing of its tail

is terrible. Imprisoned on her isle
Scylla has tentacles, dogs at her waist.
Six snake-heads her own human one replaced
She was once beautiful, known for her smile

No longer. From some monster you were born,
one such as these. You clawed your vicious way
Out of their womb, and afterwards they lay
Dead, torn and bleeding. That is why such scorn

Is in your heart for one who'll simply kneel
And beg for love from you, who does not feel.


Lesbia slags me off. Her foolish guy
Enjoys her malice. It's at my expense
'Catullus...this and that.' There is no sense
In his delight, and I will tell you why.

She bitches at me. She is still obsessed
with me, lusts for me. If she only could
shut up about it, then perhaps she would
Forget our love and let the matter rest.


You've brought me wine that's dark and sweet
so strong it tangles up my feet.
Sweet boy, I know I've had enough
Bring me some paler, sharper stuff

Postumia got some in.. And she's the one
who gets to tell this party how much fun
to have and when to slacken off the pace.
Mind you, she's drunk herself. That cheerful face

Is flushed from wine; her garland's all askew.-
Another drop of this, I'll be drunk too.
No, don't bring water. It just spoils the stuff
A waste of this good wine. I've had enough

Water's for older, sourer bitter men.
Perhaps I will toast Bacchus once again.