You’re off with Piso’s legion, what a crew!,
your empty knapsacks ready for some loot.
My dear Veranus and Fabellus, shoot
the shit, what’s up? I’m pretty sure that you

aren’t any better off for all your toil,
bad food, worse drink. All your accounts will show
is on the debit side. How do I know?
My dear commander, Memmius, without oil

to smooth things, fucked me in the mouth and arse
for months, yet somehow it was me who laid
out cash without return. He never paid.
Piso’s the same. Without a better class

Of boss, the gods will load you with disgrace,
You sorry dregs of the proud Roman race!


About rozkaveney

Middleaged, trans, novelist, poet, activist
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