The Paparazzi of Olympus

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He dipped his wick in nymph or cow;

though Hera tried to disallow

his roving ways, he was the prime
Olympian, whose seed sublime

found many fertile fields to plough.

 

With little care for marriage vow

of god or mortal, swan or sow,

he knocked them up most every time

he dipped his wick.

 

And all the birds he’d thus endow

with progeny are famous now,

with records of their lusty crime

in hendecasyllabic rhyme –

for poets detailed when and how

he dipped his wick.