By David Lee Garrison
Daphne to Apollo

She grew more beautiful
the more he followed her`
Ovid, Metamorphoses

Unhand me you blond beast! I do not care
if you’re the son of Zeus. My arms were crossed
above my breasts, my eyes gave off a glare
that told you no! but you pursued and tossed

me to the ground. I was at ease and chaste,
but you just doubled the entendre, said
I was a tease who wanted to be chased
into the woods before my thighs would spread.

You want to serenade me with your hymns
of lust? You say you’ve never been so hard?
I’ll show you hard, I’ll turn into a tree!

I’ll give you splinters when you grasp my limbs,
and make your probing tongue caress my bark.
Kiss my laurels, god of poetry!