Tuesday, October 25, 2005

Lust: A Cautionary Fable


WARNING: The following exercise in morally instructive verse contains sexually suggestive, and sometimes quite explicit, material. If you think you will be offended, try not to read it, and if you do so by accident, pretend you did not. If you would like to be offended about something, please go read some contemporary hip-hop lyrics. ALSO contains religious irreverence, for any who manage to make it that far.


Sir Pecadillo Brilliantine, a credit to his name,
Had no great gift for constancy; his wife felt much the same.
Betwixt them twain they ravished, seduced, raped, or defiled
Half the village -- o'erpowered, if they couldn't be beguiled.

Sir Peck he ate cow titties, raw or in a stew.
He claimed that with each one consumed, his member grew and grew.
The lady, fond of ballocks, clipped stallions ev'ry morn,
And had them served with curdled cream, and rhinocerous horn.
Sir Peck rose early every day, direct when crew the cock,
Threw ruin'd maidens from his bed, and took himself a walk.
When he came upon a maiden took his fancy (this is fact;
And most maids took his fancy), he'd not leave her go intact.
He'd lash her to the hillside, or bind her to a cart,
And fall upon the clothing, exposing ev'ry part;
With slap and pinch and nibble he'd subdue the little tart,
And as she thrashed he'd practice his lasciviary art.
Well, he swived them in the gullies, sullied them in lanes,
Skewered them in valleys -- Hesters, Annes, and Janes;
He suckled at their boozums, he nuzzled in their thighs,
He had them front and backwards -- and none to hear their cries.

Betimes Milday Delta, back in Castle Maidenhead,
Troubled not to rise at all, but kept herself abed,
Whilst servants and retainers, and soldiers of the guard,
Knaves, and grooms, and butlers, and sweepers of the yard,
Cutpurses, shepherds, beggars, thieves, and monastery brothers,
Lepers, idiots, cripples, and illimitable others --
By the dozens did they enter, attack her where she spread,
And penetrate to ev'ry pore -- and "More!" is what she said.
Swordsmen at her bedside assured no ardor lacked --
For if any was found wanting, they slew him in the act.
Well, they swived her in the gullies, sullied in her lanes,
Skewered her in valleys -- her pleasures from their pains.
They suckled at her boozums, they nuzzled at her thighs;
Had her front and backwards -- "More!" is what she cries.

But God rests in his Heaven, whilst angels wing above,
And looketh down upon us all with understanding love;
And when he spies the wicked, and those long-lost to sin,
He shows them Heaven's glory, and asks one and all within.
And He saw Sir Peck a-wenching, and He spake a Holy Mass,
And lo! Sir Peck's great member, it flew straight up his arse;
And as his spirit reached aloft, he breathed his final breath,
And that member never faltered as it f***ed SirPeck to death.
Nor neglected God milady, as she didst pitch and roll;
He wrenched her mouth from peon's parts, and stuck it to a hole;
Nor could she stop her sucking, 'til sun set in the weft,
And God looked down upon her, and there was nothing left.
'Tis now as then when Adam fell from Eden's paradise:
Seek not low lustful pleasures, or thou shalt pay the price!

~Found in a dresser drawer, Oct. 2005. Written by M. Bleak Mouse, probably circa 1985, at which time it was circulated in his office, taken home, and promptly forgotten for twenty years.