Poems of the Week

Shear Delight

by Ian Graham

“A topiarist says he is having to make regular repairs to his hedge due to drunk people pretending to have sex with it. … The hedge, which he has sculpted over the past 40 years, started off as a Greek god but he changed it into a reclining woman at the turn of the millennium.”— BBC News

In the twentieth century, to please the drunks,
I carved Dionysus (without any trunks)
Into my hedge, and there the god lay
Quite undisturbed until one fateful day
A slip of the trimmer on the hardy perennial
Converted him into a female millennial
Which greatly augmented the passing trade
And also the toll of repairs to be made
But to tell you the truth, I have zero regrets
As workloadwise, I have hedged all my bets
For in terms of the topiarist’s sacred arts
Women have easier privet parts.