Catullus
So, you think my poems obscene? Read Catullus.
Graffiti-ed lavatories are more apt sites
for his scatological puerile poem writes.
Yet, today his leather bound tomes enthrall us.
Vicariously momentarily shot
back over two thousand years I get to watch
as he skewers harlots, fools and others such;
poetically, of course; who strut what they ought not.
Lesbia and her sparrow charm both him and
me, but she runs off with another; his sharp barbs
pursue. Now's my big chance; might my modern garbs
catch his eye? I'll boast he my poems scanned.
They don't; more's the pity. But he's so witty,
I fear he'll read my lines as merely pithy.
Copyright © John Smith | Year Posted 2011
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment