Venus Erycina et Genetrix

There is no male heart your body cannot win
to its allegiance. This is mere fact of life.
Your pregnant lavish curves are built for sin
and men will kill to establish you as wife—
a circumstance you can exploit and will
use to your advantage. Shake money from the till

of their foolish pockets. Tease them. Find them
ripe for harvesting, broad silly field of rape,
and crush their seed to oil, cut off every stem
at groundline, leave a barren field. Shape
even history as you dispense pleasure, aid
poverty through having men you've laid

donate their dull effective powers to your cause.
Be whore and mother: nature, without natural laws.