Dear slender Aphrodite,
I have ne’er been overcome
With passionate, ****** longing
But I have felt the pursuit of the hunt
By Aries in Venus;
The child playing all is fair in love and war
But not a longing to disrupt
The weaving of thine words

“Do people really fall in love?”
Crooned the eccentric philosopher
David Byrne in hypnotic hymn
And in prismatic, psychedelic psalm
Avant-garde, aromantic heart
Expressions and impressions
That have etched upon my body
And become the truth that I accept

I have tasted the sweet of peaches
And I have felt the scalding of the sea
Lost in thought; all alone, but content
Yet the conclusions all draw back
To dulcet childhoods unfettered
By the snickering and abnormalities
That is infatuation ****** upon thee

“Raise boys and girls the same way”,
Jenny Holzer informed those in her bold dialogues
From commercial, photographic anonymity
But it is I, in gentle and embarrassed whimper,
Who would like to beseech of you
In sunny, platonic gesture
Tell boys and girls
They can be friends
Without it turning to wretched love

Gasoline pleasure becomes something more
Taboo regret with numb laughter
Pretty face with flirting eyes
You’re afraid of falling in love
Of broken hearts and broken touches
Because that’s what it means
To be a Mary Jane teenager

Do you remember,
When we ran the world?
We were the king and queen
Of a dominion, so big and true,
The central of which was a eucalypt stump
Guarded by a broken, barbed wire fence

Do you remember,
When we thought
We’d never get older
And we’d never grow apart
Only closer?

I miss those halcyon days
Afternoons and mornings
Under a great blue sky
Back when we ran the world
Because the world we always knew
Was so small and tiny
Just like our minds and bodies

Our problems seem so close
And these youthful days seem so far away
But I remember them so dearly
With every breath of gust carrying
The pure scent of fresh mown grass
And with every taste of orange juice
I hope you cherish them as well
Because they mean the world to me

And I still dream of these days
Both waking and through the night
Where I can live untroubled once more
By your side, hand in hand
Against the villainy of getting older
Even though it’s the inevitable fate

All crowns rust in the unavoidable years
Which come and go
With changes unprecedented
But embraced with an adult acceptance
Because we aren’t children anymore
We aren’t in a playground dominion
Along a beaten path and in the shade

Our reign is over, and I no longer know
The faces who have taken our places
But I hope you know
I thank you for the memories
They were so sweet and innocent
And even as we got older
And our feelings grew stranger,
I believe we’ll always have our days
As kings and queens
In our little-big dominion
So long as we always remember

Scant trace of red moon
A **** dripping blood and stars
Airy smell of smoke

You say your God is your rock and your light
But light can be blinding
And rock may roll
No longer do I feel faith
In an outback church house
Singing with the preachers

I’m in love with the black leather lily
Sequin rose: she was looking so good
That rock’n’roll woman
Singing on a countryside stage
Doused in pink and blue light

I’m once bitten
But twice aggressive
I’m hungry and I’m craving
I don’t have a record
Of either the rock’n’roll
Or cell block persuasions
But I’ll be doing my time
Somewhere soon

Love bites on my neck
Imaginary and sensual
I know what I want
And I know how to get it
But I can’t seem to kick myself off
And there’s no one who clicks
And there’s no one who would meet
My tongue with their tongue
Let alone my voice, with their notes

I’m looking for something
I wouldn’t call it rare
But I’m questioning the scarcity
I want something stimulating
Intellectually and sexually
By the look in your eye
So clueless and vacant
I know that I’m not going to find it
Any time soon

There’s a feeling that I’m chasing
The humming and the strumming
Of a sanctified guitar
And the lips of a poet
Which aren’t mine
It’s electric and eclectic
A bohemian mind
But I’m stuck in suburbia

Lipstick swatches
On the back of my hand
A trio of matte hues
But the one I wear
With a virginal kiss
The colour’s called
Girl next door
But I haven’t been
The girl next door for a while now

I like to write poems about no one
Because no one means a lot to me
But the sun’s in my eye
At four in the afternoon against a blue sky
In the passenger seat of your car
And I think about how far I’ve come
I think to myself, you’re my no one

You tell me your just another face in the crowd
But your face is all that I can think about

Cold and controversial,
Or so you tell me
But you tell me I’m on in a million
A genuine kind of girl

I can’t believe its been a year
Since I was last in your car
In the passenger seat
I can drive on my own now
And now you’re just some boy
That I used to like
A Mister No One In Particular
Whom I miss
Because I write poems about no one
Who means a lot to me