Marcus Argentarius
I lie back, drunk,
and watch the golden stars
swirl round in the sky.
Stunned into silence,
I strum on my guitar,
and think I see both how they move
and why.
*
You can’t beat the classics
for reading on the beach.
This year, Hesiod
was always within reach.
But as all the girls
were easy lays,
I didn’t get far
with Works and Days.
*
When young Alcippe took me to her room
she put her finger to her lips and ssshhhed.
‘My mother mustn’t hear.’
And so I tiptoed about the place,
barely daring to breathe until I’d done the deed.
And then I heard her mother call,
‘I hope you've saved some for me!’
*
Your name means bee,
Melissa, and my heart
tells me that it’s from a bee
you learned your part.
Your mouth drips honey
as you kiss and cling,
while your hand dips in my purse
ready to sting.
You can never be too thin,
they say, though in Dioclea's case,
I’m not so sure.
Still, she’s very sweet.
So I’ll lie on her flat chest
and count myself lucky there’s
so little between
her heart and mine.
*
Can you believe it, moon?
Sweet-smelling Ariste has left me.
Droop down your golden horns,
and let the shining stars sink in the sea.
For six days I have tracked the bitch
without once catching her scent.
But have no doubt -
the silver-throated hounds of love
will smell her out.
*
You only put those fishnets on
to tease, Lysidice.
Oh, wiggle your bum as well, why don’t you?
And the way your dress clings to your body...
why bother wearing anything at all?
If you think it’s so funny,
the way my prick rises at the very sight of you,
I’ll drape your knickers across it.
Now you see it,
now you don’t.
You’re not the only one who can dance
the dance of the seven veils.
When you were rich, Sosicrates,
you called it love,
what you got up to with Menophila.
Now you’re poor,
love’s not an option anymore.
‘How do you want me?’ she used to say,
and ‘Give it to me, big boy.’
Now it's ‘Do I know you?’
and ‘Where did you say you live?’
Poverty’s the hard way to find out,
nobody loves you when you’re down and out.
Page(s) 43-45
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