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.