'From Pan and Echo'
Pan, hairy-thighed and goat-footed
Roaming the valleys and foothills
Low down on Olympus, need
Stiffening his prick, clouding
His brain, each emission
A momentary release
From the bondage of Eros...
Where is he now? I see him,
In sunlight, flexing his thighs
At Mediterranean
Streetcorners. His nymphs descend
Giggling from aeroplanes, their
Ice-chip eyes scanning the locals
In search of the ultimate
Orgasm. These are easy lays who
Drive hard bargains.
Oh Echo!
Echo! He pursues you in markets,
He exposes his parts by the roadside. Every time
Your eye falls on that blunt paw
Groping his fly, your own thighs
Moisten. Turn away quickly,
Don your sunglasses, haggle
For tourist pots. You know he
Is watching still.
Edward Lucie-Smith