in Hadrian's garden
dinner theatre
music with feasting
dessert by the metre
orgies without pardon
gatherings of warriors
some murderers at least
lounging in silk
on gay robes
relaxing on satin pillows
all those key garden flowers
blooms sweetly scented
and those official fellows
maids and maidens
earthly beauty
so heartily entranced
bountifully enhanced
long tresses
all that golden
flowing hair
floating there
on Hadrian's spring-fed pond
dappled with sunlight
bright and emboldened
molded by ancient time
sculpted marble
fountains with Venus busts
a lot of gussied fuss
cascading ripples
sweeping o'er polished rock
arousing Aphrodite
her swollen nipples
standing shafts of spray
midst rushing applause
while the Empress
expressly pisses
her gold and ivory sink
such splendor and creative spillage
expressions of splashage
dripping down
streams of wet
colourful mosaic
segments of mirrors
displaying every privileged sense
hence the modern world
centuries of much has changed
since old Hadrian's time
we're recreationally enhanced
artificially perchance
the weekend games
Sundays and Saturdays
every Emperor's
republican fame
and those fabulous gardens
something more prosaic
opulence still remains
but Emperors
are queer folk
shear elegance
lusty profane intention
but it's more reason than rhyme
in this current season
of digital treason and insanity
digitizing humanity
every rich man's familiar scheme
seems more like a pillar of shame
since this modern world
a simply artificial game
where corruptible plastic
becomes commercial
no Rasta or Jehovah name
still this public domain
hanging revered gardens
anticipating Babylon
more dinner theatre
some historic fame

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