Calista, most beautiful of three,
How did this May-December marriage come to be?
Between you pretty thing—so fair—
and a guy with a chin-scrote and white hair?

In ancient times, you were beloved by Zeus
who disguised himself as Diana, goddess of hunt
and moon and birthing, in order to seduce
you while evading Juno’s detection, you . . .

Sorry—can’t bring myself to say it.
One of you must lie on top and I hope
for your sake it’s you and not that fat twit.
I grant you he’s sharp, and not a dope.

Number one was older, and a teacher of algebra
to the young fellow—not at all Caligraphic.
You can imagine how, when she removed her bra
it reminded him of something out of National Geographic.

Number two? Well, hell hath no fury like her.
But you’re hotter, as an Arcadian princess must know.
I hope you know your namesake was turned into a bear,
as Diana shot her with an arrow from her silver bow.

Well, enjoy your time in the spotlight
and that half-a-million buck line of credit at Tiffany’s
As 1 gave way to 2 then to 3, so you will fight
when number 4 arrives—that will be your epiphany.