Friday, September 29, 2017

Ballad of the Garden Gnome

Priapus got it chopped off,
Given a book to fondle the mind;
At one time he was hard enough
In garden plots to seed his kind.

He’s now become a Bohemian elf
Baking cookies in a tree; life
Amid the flowers, a plant himself,
He thanks Christ for his new wife.

O Priapus of the boner, your
Soulmate with the sweet breast,
Your flesh-pillow in the love-nest
Has changed the garden décor!

Fertility spirits, flesh and desire,
Now scold the chimp looking on
With that sparkling inner fire—
It’s God who created the throng

Scouring earth in search of wings
Hidden here, there, everywhere;
Since falling for all the shiny things,
Now demons whisper in their ears:

Dust to dust is thy destiny,
To pass away in soil’s memory
Of what was just a moment ago,
To join again that cosmic flow—

O Priapus! Bearer of man’s seed
Baking cookies no one needs,
Some devil is felling all the trees
To keep us angels on our knees!


  

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