Classic Poem

That Priapus with big divining rod
—From oak new-wrought this likeness of the god—
Has begged of me to answer in his name
Those verses you hacked out to his ill fame:
Reprobate, debauched and shady clown
Whom empty snail shells and weeds should crown,
Why do you, dog-like, gnaw me with your song?
If chance has made you perpetrate this wrong
My sesquipedalian, oaken dong
Will, when I catch you, horribly repay,
For this my frightful, bloody shaft will splay
Your arsehole open and then reach inside
To nudge your penis and tear up your hide,
Wherefore be warned thus far and henceforth cease,
Both you and yours leave Priapus in peace,
And, pathic poet, you revive that strain
No prick will bore your flabby arse again!