WHO WANTS ICE CREAM?
At times it’s just a matter of fixation
and barely a performance of gustation.
Then there are the thirsty old friends, if you will,
who’d rather swill a favorite libation.
Most young and old, big and small, we must confess,
are nonetheless subject to its temptation.
Scoop on a cone or soft in a cup invites
many delights and cool sorts of sensation.
Fore-savors of love will come with its flavors,
myriad favors from kiss to fellation.
Its Emperor is ours in every regard
with no holds barred or economization.
Having never read a word of Ovid,
he looked the abyss in its face, “O Void,”
he apostrophized, “who make null and void
all for which we are hopeful and avid,
with powerful verses I will avoid
defeat by you, decree you, Void, voided.”
A voice replied from deep within the Void,
“All this claptrap might have been avoided
if only you had been sent to Havid
and taught there to read some words of Ovid
(never say Avid), the semi-ovoid
nosed poet you can’t afford to avoid.
For he can show you how to be avid
to detect me in yourself, be devoid
of all that double-trouble that Ovid
learned the hard way, to self-adorn can void
one in the long run; so become voided,
egg you on to your right end ab ovoid.”
“You’re proposing an already voided
merge by me, of me with you, for Ovid’s
words fully convince me that to avoid
trying to stand and balance an ovoid
on one end will wise me up, so avid’s
as avid does to brush you off me, Void.”
“You don’t get it, and still tap an avoid-
dance around the truth of us,” snapped the Void.
“And what’s this you say about an ovoid?
That’s more to add to the pile of voided
words in your pants. You haven’t read Ovid
remotely. Your last chance for an avid
grasp of my place in you’s to cry, ‘O Void,
I look us in the face and am avid
to declare our quarrel has been voided,’
and fear to know yourself no more, avoid
not the chill of my breath in yours.”––“Right, Void,”
he replied, “if my cure’s still to read Ovid!”
The poet, voided, avid to avoid
the ovoidal cold lord of his deep void,
and read a bit, not a lot of Ovid.
So the poet’s avid to read Ovid,
and chant, “O Void, our voice as one may void
what can be voided when not avoided.”
© Andrea Augé
The latest of George Economou's thirteen books of poems and translations is Ananios of Kleitor, published in 2009 by Shearsman, which will also bring out his Complete Plus, The Poems of C, P. Cavafy in English early in 2013, the year of the splendid Alexandrian's sesquicentennial.