Idylls of the Careless Hunt

But sure the antique Greeks were far more mild,
Else of our Sex, why feigned they those nine
And poesy made Calliope’s own child?
Anne Bradstreet

Huntress, fill my pleading glass !
Let this marksman’s blood be merry.
Whether we shoot hind or ass,
Hail our wet preliminary.

Having brought to birth such brave quadruplets,
Let us toast the midwife with our couplets.

Sweet Diana pours her rounds:
Tawny Port and Shooting Sherry.
Hares now flee the baying hounds
For their country sanctuary.

Thine the night, oh bright and savage huntress;
Lead us to the quarry, chaste Artemis.

Conejito, hide yourself
From the charging adversary
Who would change your pelt for pelf;
(All close shaves are cautionary).

Forgive our clanging gong and sounding brass;
They serve to drive the quarry from the grass.

Healing balm: such sporting frolic,
Dares us to stay sedentary;
Banishing our melancholic
State, her bright apothecary!

Wild huntress, let us know you as the Greeks
And quiver as our heart your arrow seeks.

Toast we now the careless hunt;
Spoonerists wax luminary.
Visions of the hairless cunt
Make my lay discretionary.

Allegory of DIANA, Goddess of the Hunt

FAREWELL

ye POETS, SWAINS and MUSES

Thus ends National Poetry Writing Month
  I bid you all fair Adieu.
Trip away, make no stay / Meet me all by break of day . . .

Licked, Stamped, Undelivered

Sustenance for friends and clients;
state your case – come one, come all.
The matron arms of Social Service
will not let you fall.

Food stamps make our nation stronger,Diana of Ephesus1
licked, then stuck on the public roll.
Social programs last much longer
adding recipients on the dole…

Like the Ephesian Diana
many are my benefits!
Mine the matriarchal manna;
latch and suckle at my teats.

Yours the client’s right to nurture.
Mother will supply your need;
Child—you must not fear the future.
Feed, my baby, feed.

Call me nanny, call me Lord
just make sure you’re calling on me.
Mine are the gifts you can afford
taxpayer-funded, worry-free!

Once you are latched I’ll keep it flowing
like an intravenous habit.
Keep that nipple situated
close at hand. Now grab it.

Let it never cross your mind
that there’s an end to all lactation.
Cloward-Piven have refined
this titillation.

Love me.  Need me.  I’m the State.
Your well-being is my affair.
With your consent I’ll dominate,
because I care.

IMAGE CREDIT: stefanomarcelli.com

Licked, Stamped, Undelivered

Sustenance for friends and clients;
state your case – come one, come all.
The matron arms of Social Service
will not let you fall.

Food stamps make our nation stronger,Diana of Ephesus1
licked, then stuck on the public roll.
Social programs last much longer
adding recipients on the dole…

Like the Ephesian Diana
many are my benefits!
Mine the matriarchal manna;
latch and suckle at my teats.

Yours the client’s right to nurture.
Mother will supply your need;
Child – you must not fear the future –
feed, my baby, feed.

Call me nanny, call me Lord
just make sure you’re calling on me.
Mine are the gifts you can afford
they’re taxpayer-funded, worry-free!

Once you are latched I’ll keep it flowing
like an intravenous habit.
Keep that nipple situated
where your will can never grab it

Let it never cross your mind
that there’s an end to all lactation.
Cloward-Piven have refined
this titillation.

Love me.  Need me.  I’m the State.
Your well-being is my affair.
With your consent I’ll dominate,
because I care.

IMAGE CREDIT: stefanomarcelli.com

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