For most San Franciscans, rain is like meteorological fireworks. Seriously, we get a light sprankle [sic] of water droplets every galactic year i.e. almost never, so the denizens of this city are collectively shitting themselves over today’s monsoon. When I went to get coffee this morning the doe-eyed hipster behind the counter said, “This is real rain!” like he was laying some Holmesian revelation on me, bless him. I took my coffee home and lit a bunch of ambrosia-scented candles so that my bedroom would smell like the food of the gods. Then I read some of Catullus’ more brusque sonnets in order to get myself into a state of psychological readiness for the day?
Catullus lived from 87 to 58 BCE. Keep that in mind while you read this sample of his work:
I will fuck you up the ass and in the mouth,
Aurelius you sodomized ass-licker
And Furius, you perverted cock-sucker
Who read my sensual poems and conclude I'm too wanton.
For everyone knows It's meet and proper for a poet to be
Pure, pious, and always correct in his behavior.
But we don't expect the same of his poems.
Of mine they'll say sure, they have wit, they have charm
They're so sexy and lewd they can
Arouse – I won't say boys, but these hairy
Men whose unstiff dicks wilt on the vine.
You who have kissed many thousands of mouths
Upper and nether, man and girl,
How dare you think me less than manly?
I will fuck you up the ass and in the mouth.
Now I’m ready for you, world! And Mama Kantrowitz, if you're reading this, I'm embarrassed.