author's note: "This poem was inspired by a seminar given by a colleague. She studies female influence on sperm fate, specifically sperm storage in Drosophila."
Dissecting Miss Drosophila after an Eventful Evening
(ala Robert Frost, by Paul Saulnier)
Whose sperm this is I think I know.
His gonads in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To spy his sperm fill up and flow.
I’m sure that he would think it queer
To know his semen is stored here.
Between the sperm and final fate
The darkest darting few would dare.
They give their flagella a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's cilia's sweep
Of easy wave and gentle wake.
The sperm is hidden, dark and deep.
But there’s a promise yet to keep,
A ways to go before they sleep,
A ways to go before they sleep.
Epilogue
This is the way the mating ends
This is the way the mating ends
This is the way the mating ends
Not with a bang
But with a basket
