I almost think that the succession of poems in the complete poetry of Catullus is meant to weary the reader. Invective succeeds invective to the point of tedium. And then, the concluding poem ends with a taunt addressed to Gellius but easily read as a rejoinder to posterity:

well, hurl away! my guard is up against you

but I'll wound you and bring you to your knees.

I like how the translation by Frank O. Copley offers the reader a chance to identify with either position: the cocky "I" or the marked "you". I wish I could say more but I just can't manage to let my guard down.

As I close the book, I chuckle at the sassy cover designed by Quentin Fiore.

That protruding tongue makes me stick mine out in imitation. Impudent.

And so for day 528