JUNE 19 (PRIDE STRIPT & WHIPT)

“…on wild brambles the purple grape will hang,
and the stubborn oak distil dewy honey”

—Virgil—

Eclogue 4

(ca. 39 BC)

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An Eclogue:

KONSYNEAS:
I planned a simple trip home
to inspect the yields of my Father’s fields,
but saw in the air a drone;

and rows of new apartments
I wept when I found nearly all around,
a sight that my heart resents.

Traffic noise from a new road
rather than bird songs, for which my heart longs,
wounded my ears like a goad.

COMPLEXA:
I don’t see why you’d complain.
It seems that our Dad found farming is bad,
somewhat like a ball and chain.

In farming profit’s not there.
He wants gold not dross, profit over loss;
plus, farming takes too much care.

KONSYNEAS:
I think that you miss the point.
You should rebuke her, for that usurper
my lost mother did appoint

to rule my true Father’s land.

COMPLEXA:
But he’s the step-Dad that you’ve always had.

KONSYNEAS:
My Father’s murder she planned.

COMPLEXA:
What you need’s a wake up call.
Like a blaring horn I will voice my scorn.
From sound reason you now fall.

KONSYNEAS:
You want to be called Mister.
The delusion’s yours, and it’s one that floors
me since you’re my sister!

COMPLEXA:
Konsyneas, you’re to be blamed!
I’ll call the Sheriff since you don’t care if
my transgender pride is shamed!

KONSYNEAS:
The truth about your mother
is quite plain to me, with the fact I see
you’ll never be my brother!

This land is my true Father’s
and it’s mine by right. With His will you fight,
and you that never bothers.

COMPLEXA:
Your Father was a bigot.
You are just like him. You will see this shim
gets all! You, not a spigot!

KONSYNEAS:
I see my Father’s glory in
the fruit tree you lopped. Its seed I adopt,
and renounce your lustful sin!

Your Mom’s an adulteress.
When I was a boy I saw her enjoy
married men, saw them undress.

My True Dad you all offend!
No matter how sly you are with your lie,
this land is mine in the end!

Your barking dog’s-mouth may foam,
but I will not stress! Your curse is success!
Solemn rocky hills I’ll roam
till all earth’s made heaven’s home!

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