This poem first appeared in Lee Thorne's poetry newsletter, Fuck!
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Leda and the Swain
"... and grew truly swan within her womb."
"Leda" Rainer Maria Rilke
When the brute beast came into the room
Wearing a swan's-down suit, just like a second skin,
She saw him and knew him for what he was
King of the Gods (in his own mind anyway)
Master of all things great and small
King of Beasts,
Lord of Olympus!
And when she followed him into the empty bedroom,
Did she know then what powder he put on,
Smelling of Johnson's baby talc and Old Spice,
Before he would try to put it in her once or thrice?
Did she see it coming? Who can say?
Did that brute beast of the air
Fill her with regrets, among other things?
Or did she drop all pretense in his Presence?
Did she foresee what he predestined and foresaw?
Her hands caress the knape of this sweet Bill
Pressing along the length of his swell thunder-bolt
Delightful digits shaping the force that was to come
Charging like Greek seamen against the walls of Troy
Rendering the Trojan horse useless through her pre-partum foreplay
She saw it coming, just like last time,
She saw it--the one eyed monster--and knew it for what it was
And like the goose that laid the golden eggs
Her vocal-box encompassed him, in all his glory,
Rendering unto Caesar
(Bill Caesar, I think he said his name was)
All that was his (at least for the purposes of this story).
He thought he knew then what went wrong--
If he had come then as a dove or chicken
Pehaps a hawk or vulture, or a pidgeon
Things would have worked out better, but with a neck so long
He was certain to get goosed, ... and so she left him all undone.
The walls of some far future Troy will stand
And some far-flung Greeks will stay at home
Embarking, instead, on some electronic voyage
Where blood is not spilled, and Priam keeps his crown,
And Agamemnon takes his Saturday bath in peace
While his wife scrubs his back in that place where he can't reach.
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