Saturday, August 24, 2013

Calydonian Boar

Gone a whoring,
the man-pig
routs with his
snout in the dirt of
the crude temple floor,
blessings for his quest,
calls for the priestess
to attend him,
come accept his
drink offering,
grunting beast,
foul breath in 
unwashed crusts
of skin, names
himself beautiful,
boasts of his
suppurating wound,
fixed in its soul-less
primitive throes,
a lower function mind
appeals to any who
answer his discharges,
husky-filled calls
masked in distinctive
aromatic rubbings,
pleasing words,
read at leisure
in old parlors,
the poems of a
Calydonian Boar,
intent to destroy,
he's a ravager.

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

1 comment:

  1. oh it sounds like he is...and might make a great politician...ha...appeals to anyone who answers his discharges...gritty piece man, but i like...smiles.