Agreements are made when moneys are paid
In exchange for the work of my pen.
Commissions l gained, grotesque and mundane
Portraying the longings of Men.
Although l have had affairs good and bad,
Yet the strangest accruing to me
Was Renee de la Frere, for whom l would bear
My terrible dark pregnancy.
Of Dame de la Frere; there's little to share,
As any commissioner knows -
Our clients assume a fake nom de plume,
Renee was the one that she chose.
She showed not her face, but fain would amaze
My muse through command of her quill,
Inspiring wit; to fave and critique...
A fellow colleague in the field
To whom l would tell anxieties fel;
Enough to confound or enrage
Creators as we: the bleak scrutiny
Attained when l crumple a page
Unaltered and white, revealing my plight--
O how she would giggle to see
The curses I'd say to hasten away
This drought which alighted on me.
On one such a day I courted Renee,
Made reckless by clients and need
``Ideas will not run, till writer-block's done,''
Quoth I, ``What l would to be rid
Of villain accursed; this block is the worst - ''
La Frere then replied thus to me
``Should writer's block leave, what then wilt thou give?''
``The firstborn related to thee?''
Now let it be said that l was no maid,
No maiden or lass or betrothed -
A bachelor then; and clearly a man,
such was the response that l wove:
One safe enough then; for l did not plan
To wed or be burdened with child
Or infant or sprat - ``what say you to that?''
Thus would our troubles beguile.
``The bargain is struck. Mortal Man, you're in luck -
Such favour would l show to thee
As one who should dare; their suit thus to bear
Before my relations and me.
Although it's an age, since men would engage
Our audience on Mount Helicon
where Hesiod once did. As then our seed
shall root and be pregnant hereon.''
She seemed so sincere, I couldn't say, ``Here,
You sure you're not pulling my leg?''
Naught else would she say in Discord that day,
Save `now our bargain is made'.
Those words which l read conspired and bred
Disquiet in one such as me
That night on the LAN, where I conceived then
Calliope's dark progeny.
Pregnancy fair, (as I'm sure you're aware,)
Is perceived as a boon and a curse.
Those fortnights which passed in fever aghast
Ranked surely alongside the worst.
I battled the chills, the cramps and the spills,
Infused in creativity
As line after line exited a mind
In such undeterred urgency
I labored and strove, delivered and drove
Nine months, with a week give or take,
Encountering squirts, occasional spurts
Of one I endeavored to slake.
A bargain was made, a debt to be paid
Which hung like a burden on me
O how l would nurse those letters accursed,
Their yet unresolved legacy
The letters piled high, the weeds to the sky,
Well-wishers I sent far away.
Entreated to fare to hence god-knows-where,
Repeated, ``Not now, not today,''
For fires burn hot, and muse must be caught
Afore She supposes to go...
Those nine months of hell I loved; loathed as well,
As mothers perchance yet may know
Thus came to The-End, and stoppered my pen
With rather a sigh of relief:
The manuscript done, the madness has run
Its course was the thought l conceived.
No more need l slave for respect which I crave,
For I saw that the story was Good
Alas when l found, disinterest around
When audience scarce understood
As you would expect, I then recollect
The bargain l now call accursed
To sacrifice there my child to La Frere,
Not reading the smaller print first.
That work which I made, was not of my stead,
commissioned by callous Renee
who's empowered to act, and rightly collect
rewards once allotted to me
So writers beware, and artists have care
lest careless transactions are made
I curse yet the day, I first met Renee
Surrendering thus to her stead.
Where words are my trade, commissions my bed,
The strangest I ever did see
Was that I would bear to Ms De la Frere:
That firstborn she swindled from me