- Erotic Poetry
- The Huntress
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The Huntress
She hunts in the jungle
For the smallest of game
Not one at a time
For millions she came
She knows where they are
Down south of the stag
She bags not her quarry
Lets them out of the bag
Stakes out the fertile ground
For herself she claims it
The huntress moves in
In readiness is her pit
Her prey is now helpless
Caught in the hypnosis
Of a huntress's delight
Her own special gnosis
They come to her swiftly
From deeply they rush
Their own lemming accord
Captured by flow and gush
She smiles and tidies up
Her small game has met its doom
A funny thought in her mind
Doctor Livingsperm, I presume?
