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"silenus" poems
Silenus, sad old satyr, wearied of seduction. He'd cultivated enough nymphs to last an immortal lifetime. They were all the same anyway, ubiquitous, their beatific bottoms lifted and eager to be impaled. He dreamed of mortal women, wary and with wiles. A bit more of a challenge. But a job is a job, even for a demigod. Onward. he plowed another furrow. Back to work. Hard at it. Poking eternity. Once more into the breach.   - mce
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Jan 7, 2016
Jan 7, 2016 at 7:18 AM UTC
mike-essig
Silenus Laments
Silenus, sad old satyr, wearied of seduction. He'd cultivated enough nymphs to last an immortal lifetime. They were all the same anyway, ubiquitous, their beatific bottoms lifted and eager to be impaled. He dreamed of mortal women, wary and with wiles. A bit more of a challenge. But a job is a job, even for a demigod. Onward. he plowed another furrow. Back to work. Hard at it. Poking eternity. Once more into the breach.   - mce
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