THE MAVEN
                             by SubSonic
                      (special assist from EYE)


Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over my decision to desist from lapping ever more,
While I nodded, nearly sleeping, suddenly there came a beeping,
From Eudora, always keeping, keeping me awake, that whore --
"'Tis some artifact," I muttered, "static in my modem's core --
            Only this and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak November
That I sternly told my member, "We're not lapping anymore."
Plaintively, and disbelieving, Woody soon was pouting, grieving,
Even threat'ning me with leaving, leaving me forever more
For the rare and radiant maidens whose techniques he did adore --
            "Please," he'd beg me, "just one more?"

All his crying and lamenting could not bring me to relenting,
Even though it was tormenting to my fragile, eggshell soul.
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating:
"It is really self-defeating, dwelling on that puerile goal.
There are more important things to think about," I would cajole,
            "Exercise some self-control."

Presently my will grew stronger, and with time I would no longer
Crave the ministrations of the dancers that I now forswore.
Soon my habit was receding, even Woody stopped entreating
Me to give him one more fleeting, precious moment to explore
The contours of a dancer's butt, the kind that used to make him roar ...
            In the past -- now, nevermore.

Now, though, with my modem stirring, faintly echoed by the whirring
Of the fan in my computer that I'd bought three years before,
Through the ether, data streaming (twenty eight point eight, not screaming),
Came a message unbeseeming, unlike any one before.
"What the fuck is this?" I wondered, sweat exuding from each pore.
            Then was silence, nothing more.

In the room the air grew thicker, then the lights began to flicker,
Soon a faintly eerie zephyr wafted through my chamber door.
First I thought that Ginger farted, then I realized, leaden-hearted,
Something strange had been imparted by my modem; furthermore,
It was in the room with me! -- a being I could not ignore.
            Standing, staring, nothing more.

Desperately I thought of fleeing from the creature I was seeing
In the room: a stately Maven from my lapping days of yore!
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he,
But, with mien of lord or lady, showed me to a Benz's door.
"Dear SubSonic, won't you join me?" he asked o'er the engine's roar,
            And put the pedal to the floor.

Small and ebon, so beguiling, he was even faintly smiling,
There was no mistaking what for me this evening held in store.
Bony-butted, he was driving faster than an eagle diving,
All too soon we were arriving, breathless, at the CP door.
Hustling me inside he pointed to the dancers on the floor.
            "Go, my son," he said. "Explore."
      
Startled at the stillness broken by his blessing aptly spoken,
Something papal in his manner made my grieving heart upsoar.
Past resolve and self-denying melted as my underlying
Urges bubbled forth, defying all my self-restraint of yore.
"Please," I cried, "Don't make me re-engage this habit I deplore!"
            Quoth the Maven, "Just one more."

Powerless, I knuckled under, all reserve now torn asunder,
As the maidens lapped me through the Bob Smyth PJ's that I wore.
'Twasn't quite like copulation, still it was a sweet sensation --
I had papal dispensation to get dances by the score!
Hours later, as I tried to exit through the CP door,
            Quoth the Maven, "Just one more."

"Prophet!" said I, unbelieving, "laps galore I've been receiving,
Surely you don't think that I could handle even just one more."
Now his grin, once welcome, grated; soon my buoyant mood abated,
I became quite agitated, and my blood began to roar,
As I understood that I had not just walked through Heaven's door.
            Quoth the Maven, "Just one more."

"Prophet!" said I, quite uneasy, "your demeanor makes me queasy,
Please release me from temptation by the maidens I adore!"
But his eyes had all the seeming of a demon's that was dreaming,
And the strobe light o'er him streaming threw his shadow on the floor.
And I knew my soul was gone, perhaps forever, out the door.
            Quoth the Maven, "Just one more."

Knew I then by intuition I was there for all perdition,
Trapped inside the Chez Paree through all eternity and more,
I was stuck with my addiction to the joys of dancer friction
On my groin without restriction, 'til it left me spent and sore.
And assaulted by the words that I forever would abhor,
            From the Maven: "Just one more."