Bathsheba's Psychiatrists Poem by David Alexander Jackson

Years later
Bathsheba's psychiatrist
Was analysing the tryst
Between King David
And her.

It was no tryst
Said she.
What a slur.
He was a voyeur
And an opportunist.

An amoeba would concur
Said the psychiatrist
That a shower screen
And being more demure
Would have been
Quite spiritually enterprising.

You cannot expect
Kind David to desist
From objectifying your femurs
And a cracking pair of amethysts.

Don't treat me
Like some calculating
Hormone Exchange Unit
You sexist misogynist.

You are not fit
To analyse me.

You say your name's Freud
But you're wholly devoid
Of any insight
Of what is amiss
Or my troubles might be.

Not one piece of grit
Have you put in my oyster.
You obsequious churl
I'm a girl you don't mess with.

I could have you hung.

But instead she dismissed him
and booked an appointment
With a certain professor
Who went by the name of
Carl Gustav Jung.