Nail Chiodo

Loud in War

Canto III

Let’s leap some years ahead to when Ludwig—
Ah, stop pulling your pud, Lud!—
First jousted with Woman in flush and bloom,
Skipping his syllo-jisms and ejaculations in between
(Prodigious though they were at times)
Out of regard for the adult spleen.
The scene had connotations anti-typical to Eden:
He had seen his Eve confabulating under a tree once,
With your ubiquitous proletarian; hell’s bells,
She as soon agrees to meet Lud there as well!
Thunderous is his heart’s thump, comparable,
His erection, to the tree’s trunk when, at last,
They stand alone beneath its verdant boughs.
He has but to touch her, one finger will draw
The others to full handfuls of bliss;
He will tilt his nose a little sideways
So as not to nudge her, and she will do the same,
Until still unhumiliated lips
Suffer to perfection meet—or so claimed hope,
While all about him grows loud the hiss
Of the lethal risk in such abandon:
What if instead of forwarding the kiss
She plays the bitch and slaps him;
Or if she gags, pretends to choke,
Puke, laugh, beg for a poke?
I do not claim to divine what harpies
Cast their spell on the poor bloke;
I only know that he enquired about her studies,
That the tryst ended quickly, on a passionate, intellectual note.

Canto IV