Circe, Saturday

The last two
Of Odysseus’ men she thought
Would make a fine novelty.
One bundled up

For Menippe, her favourite of the Nereids.
The other, squealing,
She kept.

Texting on a Saturday
From amongst her innumerable
Rocky pools, she asks the sea
Nymph:

COME OVER BABE?
I’M WET FOR U
LITERALLY