Ode on Some Grecian Porn

I

Thou ravish’d bride of naked terra cotta,
Bent low and bowing to thy daily grind,
Thy solace is, that when the guy hath gotta,
Thou really seem’st to dig it from behind.
Forever bon’d! The living are struck dumb
By stamina that spans a generation
And — sure, why not? — the whole ars longa thing.
And yet, for all the glories strength may bring
To centuries of endless penetration,
‘Tis clear by now thou’rt never going to come.

II

Thy mistress hold’th a lamp (no reason given),
As though she standeth and directeth traffic.
Thou sitt’st before and strok’st her Gate of Heaven
In coy submission best describ’d as Sapphic.
O, wert thou made for men’s or women’s eyes?
(For man doth get off watching women do it.)
Thou art too rapt! Too intimate to care!
Thy look betray’th such transport of the spirit
That when thou slipp’st thy hand between her thighs
Thou giv’st no poop who sees thee touch her there.

III

‘Twould not be Greece without a manly trio —
Two bearded butches raise a beardless friend
By legs and arms and, with a hardened brio,
Prepare to fill the gaps at either end.
When old age shall this generation waste
And potency resideth in a pill,
Ye shall remain to tell the modern fister:
“O, be not fooled: The world was never chaste.
Thy mom and granny also had the will —
And you think you’re hot ‘cause you invented Twister?”