Female-Serpents
All of us men, regardless of the classical verities of our hearts,
In our own fortuitous or gratuitously misfortunate ways,
With willy-nilly, hit-and-miss serendipity or just plain bad luck,
Discover our paths of least resistance, most physical happiness,
Let ourselves get fried on Dionysus's electrified grid,
Burn, to a crisp, every ounce of our libidos' energy,
Running the timeworn gamut of love-hate relationships,
Until we grow smug, jaded, cynical, stony, misanthropic,
Bitter to the core, misogynistic —
Satan's creatures,
Who resort to manipulations, beguilements, deceits, half-lies,
Misleading innuendos, infidelities,
Whatever it takes, to perpetuate the grand illusion
That all's well in Denmark, when, indeed, all's rotten as hell,
Even as all hell's freezing over and over and over
And our one-night stands, our marriages of impeccable record,
Our missing-over-the-long-weekend-in-Argentina escapades,
With our sweet-cheat wise Latina sirens,
Deliver us to the back door of disillusion's sad stage of life,
Where, in a final, agonizing state of prolonged realization,
We're obliged to accept destiny's verdict for us,
All too eager to cooperate with the authorities,
Who promise us exceptional treatment, for copping pleas
Guaranteed to aid them, in apprehending the real offenders:
Those Eves and Salomes and Jezebels
Who lead us naive, innocent Adams to consort with vipers,
Knowing that the bite of female-serpents, only, is lethal.
07/21/09 - (2)
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