by Dan Grossman

The crotch-shot king
like Claudius Nero of old
set forth to expand his empire:

Who else would crown himself
Il Duce di Cultura by crossing
The Rubicon between Penthouse

and Caligula? Of course, his camera
lingered too long on the court
nymphos and the Temple of Venus whores

that history neglected. Roman
scribes, nevertheless, confirm
that Cal made his horse consul.

What they forgot to mention:
the horny lesbians eating each other out
behind the mask of Jove

as Little Boots fucked his wife
and his sister. Bob finally came
to his senses. He realized his failure

as a celluloid Tacitus. So he resolved
instead to change the future
and poured his cum-rag profits

into cold fusion. But the Utah scientists,
with their Salamander Letter physics,
disappointed him. Changing history,

it seems, is not as simple as slipping
extra pornographic footage
up the cunt of an Italian B movie. 

Dan Grossman writes: "I'm a returned Peace Corps volunteer (Niger '92-94) currently living in Indianapolis Indiana. I've been published in pLopLop (www.pLopLop.com), and Flying Island. I have work forthcoming in Yefief. I also have a chapbook of poems entitled Kilohertz Country out with Geekspeak Unique Press, the publishers of pLopLop."