The Naughty Grotto
The Naughty Grotto
Enter, Friend, Love’s Naughty Grotto.
Its quarry builds a pyramid,
The tomb of an almighty Pharaoh;
Here daughters do as fathers bid,
And asses follow where they’re led—
Veiled chambers, jarred sarcophagi,
Seal mysteries. Pry off their lid…
There you stand. Here I lie.
Come inside Death’s Naughty Grotto.
Here, in their temple’s shade, gods sweat,
Where lovers’ cries still echo hollow;
There let yourself yourself forget.
In bedsheets wrap the jackal’s head,
Silk bandages to mummify
The ghostly bones quick spirits fled.
There you stand. Here I lie.
Withdraw; go from Art’s Naughty Grotto.
Dream of the hieroglyphs you read
Carved on its walls, the cryptic motto
Of Hathor: “Lover, come to bed;
Tonight the living meet the dead.
Ride my back below the sky,
Behind the sun that burns moons red.
There you stand. Here I lie.”
A princess wept; a nation bled—
One cave, ten thousand stones. All die;
None solves the riddle its Sphinx hid.
Here I stand. There you lie.
- ‹ previous
- 55 of 92
- next ›
- Login or register to post comments
- Email this page
- Printer-friendly version