MASTERPIECE #2769

/// In their intimate Harem commune
she would move to the female slave’s tune.
With a sinuous pose
from her head to her toes,
even eunuchs would beg her to spoon.

/// Her whole life, Odalisque never felt
what it’s like to be thought of as svelte.
Still, it’s no big surprise
fabric slipped down her thighs,
for her harem pants came with no belt.

/// The nude Odalisque said to the slave,
“It is not just your music I crave.
Bring that dude in a tunic
(who pretends he’s a eunuch),
so the three of us can misbehave.”

/// Now, the sultan had nary a clue
that his lush concubine was untrue.
His wives numbered four;
harem girls— fifty more,
but these women had carnal needs, too.

/// One of fifty, the girl had lost favor
with the Sultan. (She’s now last month’s flavor.)
He grew tired of her body,
so like Scheherazade,
she hoped stretching-out stories would save her.

/// The fake eunuch was caught in the act,
(‘cause he had what the other guards lacked).
His tardy castration,
then decapitation,
plus the slave girl’s, that’s three “heads” were whacked.

/// But the concubine stayed out of trouble
by pinning all blame on her double.
“Odalisque three-four-three
looks exactly like me,”
she thought, “Save for some unsightly stubble.”

/// This is how the nude schemer got saved:
She made certain her “twin” had been shaved.
The eye-witness, by law,
couldn’t prove who he saw,
so they live, but they’re both still enslaved.