POETRY

Stupid Delight

The Riddler Bard’s Challenge

Dall E 2

Then when’s it our turn to take up recline
to suckle the teat like fat little swine?
Not near! No say you — it cannot be so
that we are to be trodden upon, though
who more familiar than we with such plight?
Riddle me, fiddle me, diddle me this:
have you ever had thought such like the kiss
as the one you bestow below the hips
rear-facing as you race to…