Image by: Thomas Hawk
At the court of Nanjing, this guy, an adjunct
Professor, was announced guilty. The crime he had
Committed was organizing a sex party
In which he farked another’s wife, while
His own girlfriend was covered
By another man, and the man’s mistress was mounted
By someone else, and someone else’s woman was banged
By another someone else.
They sentenced him to a session of 11-year imprisonment.
He, the professor, slouched on his seat like a dog
Just whipped by its master, his head ashamedly
Drooping, his body quivering in the resonance
Of his accusation: gathering a crowd for sexual promiscuity.
His defense counsel muttered a curse
The professor, in disgrace, buried his head in his arms
Like a dead volcano
His students could clearly recall
How active the volcano used to be in class
An enlightener they admired, now an erotomaniac
Idol collapsed, with all he had taught:
Martin Luther King and George Orwell
Liberty, egality and fraternity
And all secrets other teachers feared to tell
The volcano-like professor was mute in his cage
His ex-wife divorced him six years ago
And his now girlfriend was in another cage
All of a sudden, he stood up, confronting the judge,
Seething lava ejaculating from his mouth
‘Your Honor,’ he said, in a high-sounding manner.
His gestures were an incarnation of King
And his tone, Orwellian:
‘Your Honor,’ he uttered, ‘I think my sentence you made is
Absolutely wrong. Sex is a right granted by the Constitution.
Every citizen has his own right of choosing his sexual life
So long as he doesn’t affect others. I held the party at home
And all my guests were volunteers. I didn’t impose.
‘I have a dream that one day we’ll be free from this falsehood.
What is freedom? Freedom is the freedom to fuck!
They can’t cut off first our tongues and then our penises!’
He stood still, facing a throng of startled audience
With his arms frozen in the air
As if he had won the Nobel Peace Prize.