Interview with a Faun

She came over the fence at Elmer’s farm,

Leaping like a deer, the white tail flying behind her,

Into the middle of Elmer’s cookout seeking me.

“What’s this?” I exclaimed, “A faun wearing clothes?”

“Elmer’s oldest boy is a Sensitive like you,” she said.

“I don’t need farm boy to see me nude again,,

At least, not until I decide to seduce him.”

“You must be Su-Fey Pan,

Radasha told me about you.”

She grinned a sinister grin. 

“It must be nice to own your own faun.”

“I own him not,” I said of Ra,

“He came to me during my trauma.”

“He led me to the garden in my mind to heal.”

“That’s what I must do for Elmer”s boy, Wilbur.”

“Because he alone survived his mother’s car crash?”

She only nodded sadly. 

The farmer’s wives with plates of mashed potatoes,

Looked at me strangely for talking to myself.

“So, why have you come here seeking only me?”

“Because you write a book of poems,

And claim you are an awful poet.

And you know of fauns and fairies,

And what their uses are.

And you understand the metaphors,

And sling the symbols all around.

And you understand that poetry

Sucks the poison from your soul

And turns venom into candy,

With sound and fury and sometimes even rhyme.”

“And you are asking me to give you some of that for him?”

“That magic, yes, to save his life,

From you through me to him.”

“And how is this miracle to be done?”

“Kiss my cheek, and give it me,

And I’ll bestow on him.”

I kissed her lightly on the sun-tanned cheek.

She grinned, a twinkle in her hazel eyes.

And she kissed me back on the lips.

The magic took my sight away.

Su-Fey was gone.

“Mickey, are you all right?” said a farmer’s wife,

“Or are you having another episode?”

“Oh, I’ll be fine,” I said, still smirking.

“Is there any of that sausage left?”

“