Monday, September 30, 2013

A Tale for Modern Medicine

Up, Slacker, Up!
 
With apologies to Robert Graves
Up, slacker, up! Have you no shame
That at the whisper of Love's name,
Or Beauty's you no longer raise
Your ready head and stand at gaze.

Poor bombard-captain, sworn to reach
The ravelin and effect a breach—
But now indifferent and you don't know why
So like a possum you pretend to die!

Love may be blind, but Love at least
Rejects the unleavened and seeks the yeast:
Or Beauty wayward, but requires
More staunchness from her favored squires.

Tell me, my witless, whose one boast
Is that you will not be Cupid's whipping post,
When were you made a man who has no part
To perform in Aphrodite's art.

Will many-gifted Beauty come
Begging of you duties just a crumb,
Or Love not ask to drain the cup?
Arise, arise! Up, slacker, up!
by Mark Perry
in Volume 2 Issue 1

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