HarvestDo not let a woman with a sexy rump deceive youwith wheedling and coaxing words; she is after your barn. -Hesiod Shall we gather the sunsetpluck what is ripeharness the cicada's song?Even if this isn't the seasonof new lovelet us remember the budsand reap what we can.No crop is too small.No harvest too lean.The grain will yield.So scatter and slashcall in the cowsand let us milk them all dry.Plow as you will.Bulldoze away.Why not make every seasonour seasoneach dayour dayto till and teaseto clear and seedto plant and replantas we please.Comemy sweet smell of haydo not be deceivedby Hesiod.He says that I amafter your barn.I want the wholefucking farm!