One night when he was fast asleep
A succubus approached his bed.
“I’m here to slake your lust,” she said,
Then kissed him hard and drew him deep.

Thus dreaming he was wide awake,
He wondered who the hell she was
But let her have her way, because
He thought of Onan’s grave mistake

And what a price there’d been to pay
For spilling seed upon the ground.
At last she said, “I’ll be around,”
And vanished at the break of day.

When he awoke his drawers were wet
With fluid that he’d freely spent;
He lay there, drained and well content,
Her sudden flight his sole regret.

But then an envoy from the Lamb
Appeared and bade him, OWN THY GUILT.
“As charged,” he shouted from his quilt,
“And what a happy man I am!”




C.B. Anderson was the longtime gardener for the PBS television series, The Victory Garden. Over the past eight years, hundreds of his poems have appeared in scores of print and electronic journals out of North America, Great Britain, Ireland, Australia and India. He is inordinately fond of single malt Scotch whisky.