Apologies to Hippolytus
By Reid Baer

I pray that Love will never come to me
with murderous intent,
swinging from vines and rhythms wild.

Not fire nor stars have stronger bolts
than those of Aphrodite, sent
with a banana in the hand of a child.

Love is like a flitting monkey in the world’s jungle
and for its favor, damage is in his bad breath.
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