The Parting Gift
Forward Friar John, the giant’s friend
Whom
Rabelais portrayed
As a man perdurably fond
Of
his way with a maid,
Requested, when they
came to leave
The
Papimanian shore,
A little flock or pride or drove
Of
those who’d served before,
Whose flower-crowned
heads and haunches’ roll
Contented
his wide gaze;
Like a pup that’s pinched a plump fowl
He
looked at them sideways.
With giggles neither
coy nor lewd
Adeptly
down they’d leant
And poured the wine and brought the food
And
pitched the Friar’s tent.
But John was
a servant of God’s
And
not the flesh’s slave.
Modestly, two or three cartloads
Were
all that saint would crave.
John Gibbens, from The Promise
Go
to the Trading Post to buy The Promise
