Oh you! whose religion is repression,
whose nakedness is anger,
whose politics is leave-your-mind-behind,
while wearing an indignant expression.
Oh you! whose nationality is frontiers;
Whose perfume is regret,
whose smorgasbord is Attitude Buffet
while sitting on myriad fears.
Oh you! whose face is made of rubber,
whose hobby is despair,
whose heart is like a weathercock
in foul and windy weather.
Oh you! whose hopes are a semi-colon,
whose energy is glue,
whose philosophy is “couldn’t-care-less”
so long as it suits you.
Oh you! please take my shaky hand in one of yours;
the other one thrust deep into my chest
and rip the pulsing muscle through my shirt,
then we can both with passion be possessed!
© 2011, Alan Morrison