The Swan & Leda

How, like a...God he comes taking the shape & the form of a swan who having had his wicked way longs to be on his merry way. But, wait ...what’s this he can’t....shake ...his fine...feathers...off feather upon downy feather locks him into the costume he had put on & now...can’t be put off. What magic can this human woman weave & now having been taken takes great pleasure in having her servant a giant of a man among men bugger the swan & be gone. And once the God is well & truly f***** he’s plucked of all the finery of his feathers. Behold, the God standing in the nude shivering & ready for the pot the final twist of this fatalistic plot ...his beautiful neck. That night she dines upon the subtle delicate breast of swan served in a creamy pepper & garlic sauce. She even has an extra helping thinking she can always exercise it off. Alas, poor Zeus wishing he had chosen to pose in his usual tour-de-force a shower of gold but thinks too late (thinking even as he is eaten) . And now, she burps (“Oh, pardon..! ”) sleeps & dreams of a God fit for a dish.