Panurge’s Muse

A simian profile

With slits for eyes;

Dumpling lips and a potato nose:

Neither a girl nor a goat.


Hair like a fishtail;

No bust, more like a frying pan;

And growing from the chin—

It’s terrible, I know—a beard.


Choppy gestures, long feet,

Hands twisted backwards,

A voice thinner than a cobweb,

Canine teeth–some rotten.


Oh, darling, your laughter–

It opens gates. . .

Just stunning! An acid stench

Gushes from your mouth.


Eyes lost in craters in the skin,

Arched, balding eyebrows.

Dear God, after all this

We are to accept her naked?!