I went to poke your tongue out

I have 3 siblings but no next of kin

I have a habit but no cigarettes

I have a knife but no belly to plunge

I have a radiator but no heat

In like Flynn I go

Into the realm of tidal waste

Of florid featured life

And oregano filtered smoking guns,

I will be there and then

The night in shining armour

Not to be sorted into ramshackle

Rooms

Full of fears and Poseidon adventured youth

But all the same I will not be and have not said

That I will be them that wanted for some more gruel

But want more than that now that I am a grown-up

And alone.

I want a lover who can defend me not accuse

All the time, making me unhappy and not

Sole profiteering from me like it doesn’t count what

I do to fling out the grimy stuff called juris prudence

Into fields of green.

 

Copyright Bruce E Saunders 2016