Saturday Night

A classical type poem with both modern and ancient references. Used in this case to show the weakness of man...when pleasure-flesh did call... the sirens. Then the same but in a modern context.

Saturday Night

I am drawn inexplicably towards the flashing lights of pleasure.
I tussle with the ligatures-which Ulysses so firmly fixed
did grapple with when pleasure-flesh did call.
Too close now I hear the Syrinx of modern man.

Thumping bass, scant clothes, hidden parts with labels ‘Symbiotic flesh’.
Saturn’s day, Saturn plays! Who cares, Bacchus has my mind, my tongue.
From the mast I break free, conscience gone, to shores and moisture-fields.
Then as flesh becomes weak tongue lolling loose-
I’m bounced off wet pavements.