Sappho in a passion calls up Aphrodite;
Gets the answerphone; but claims emergency.
She spent the hours of darkness flailing in her duvet.
“My sweet, my ally, do pop in for coffee.”
Our rapid reaction goddess rushes in in nightie,
Coat, eau de toilette and black stiletto boots.
She looks too pretty really for the part of schemer,
Parks her chariot outside on a meter.
“Since Sappho calls, I come down from the clouds.
The pet birds flew me here, my dear,” she says.
“All sweeties, sparrows, promiscuous of course,
So fast and frivolous but such delightful feathers.
“Crushes, flings and grandes passions, we do.
If she runs away, then soon may she pursue.
Assert your dignity, and punish hers;
Waltzing, tease; and let her plead for every kiss.”
But later: “Really this one is so young, again.
Too much, dear. Perhaps it’s time to settle down.
I know the dancing mistress calls the tune
But—immortal to mortal speaks the truth.”
link to video
Emily Hay is an English writer from London - a queer parent, insider-outsider and community volunteer writing poetry, short stories and longer. Her poetry and prose has been published by Lancaster Litfest; Coffee House poetry magazine; Riggwelter Press; Aôthen Magazine; Lavender Review; City Lit Between the Lines; Gay Authors Workshop; Vernacular Journal and Poetry Bus.
