Venus Of Willendorf

She embraces courtship at my flank,
With sails so broad she could never become seaworthy,
I step aboard her with a tepid scrutiny,
Tapping my feet starboard at her rim,
Positioned to the waning amber consume,
And lose both legs to the knee,
In the clasp of her soft amber mesh,

But in my sweat fed panic,
I'm feeling profound motions on glass,
Swaying in my own oceans for all to sea,
And not needing a ship,
I like my girls with a bit of weight,
I am the whale hunter,

Should the deck of a ship be over grown¦
¦with pubes?
"Forget the oars we need a comb!
Alistair pours out his dues,
And my first mate and I roll around in our aisles,
"Two days till Friday and twos up, come this way!
My best and first mate will holler abound,
"Only Twos up?!?!! What of the crew? I lapse and refrain,
"She will hold I think¦but only her burden,
We roll around in the aisles once more,
But with rum and harpoons at our fingers,
And grease to manoeuvre the waves,
On this girl of a ship,
I like my girls with a bit of weight,
I am the whale hunter,

So waking up fully on this peaceful sea,
I realise the act and succession taken place in the fore,
She lies there so sturdy with cabin fever wrecked,
A hole is her bow gushing against the shore,
Canon pockets shot and empty,
Only a small black hole will subside,
Rum bottles smashed and hollow,
The ships parrot dead,
"What have you to say to me? I ask,
And she says¦
"We're not ugly anymore.
¦On a sigh¦
"I smashed all the mirrors in the house.

© Copyright 2006 Leigh Cole
www.RedVenice.co.uk