As I stood with my toes in the beach,
      Gazing in at the frothy white waves
Appearing from the dark, night-covered sea.

I stood wishing Venus would Come,
      And with her might and rare beauty
Be reborn from the the swirling, salty foam.

Three ill-clad drunks silhouetted appeared,
      Against the harsh lights of the city.
And approached like the Sailors they were.

“Hi, this is Rebecca, and she needs a fuck.
      Since she likes goatees, and you’re the First,
We’ve found, would you like to try your luck?”

I was once taught that when attacked by drunks.
      To quote Shakespeare, and appear as mad.
But I can never remember a thing from that trunk.

Tis common knowledge that drunks often do quote
      Shakespeare nearly as poorly as I,
And wouldn’t know my words if wrapped in his coat.

And so with my knees in the surf, I stole a glimpse
      At the moon hiding in shame-colored clouds,
I spoke to the intoxicated and intoxicating nymphs …

Hath Venus no mercy and plaguest my soul
And send her minions for torment and toll
How I wouldst have supped at her breasts
With nectar to my lips and my soul at rest
Such sweetness I wouldst like to have known
To call a lover of my heart, my own
But sirens and harpies do affix their attention
And not but for sport and with little affection
Cometh from the abyss of my grief with swift flight
And Venus, sweet blessed Venus, mocks at my plight.

Well whether the foam from the waves of the sea,
      Or the foam from the waves of my mouth,
The three drunks, like does, fled to the trees.