VISITING PENELOPE

September 27, 2013
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Whenever I go to visit Penelope
on the bank of the stream where she lives ‘neath the willow tree
I bring an assortment of her favorite treats
like mud sludge and pond scum and rotten black beets.
For this I’m rewarded with one of her smiles
and one of her bloodstained tooth sharpening files.
Don’t believe for a second I have one regret.
For you see, when I’m aided, I never forget.
Penelope did me the greatest of boons
one night by the light of the brightest of moons.
Oh, what did she do? You ask. I reply.
She tamed a wild beast under the sky.
What beast? Why beast? You ask. I reply.
What beast? Why beast? Of course, it was I.

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