is one of Catullus' sillier, bedroom romps of a poem. As an invocation of sexual fantasy, it dramatizes sex not as romantic or tragic (that comes elsewhere), but as comic. Still, I suspect that some, like Mrs. [Margaret] Kennedy, will find the poem's sensual trance a delight. Vivamus, mea Lesbia, atque amemus
from David Biespiel: The Oregonian: Poetry
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