What a torment! Cursed, genetically
Inclined, a loyal slave to her majesty,
A fat striped bottom and little stink for life,
Sent out to push nature’s browned iron wheel,
A pirate looking for the blinding hue,
An endless hunt for that yellow jewel,
I dare you to come back empty handed.
Have you ever heard an infant’s high cry?
Is it hungry for love, is it...is it in pain,
Or is it just an intricate mind-game?
Like a sponge it ***** everything in, but
it’s a sponge, one squeeze is enough, and all’s
poured out, the love, the milk, and the relief,
And the cry is even louder this time
When will the cycle end...only god knows when?
All for the good of the queen, the hive a
Maelstrom of golden words a buzzing non-
sense, I want to be a moth like Crane was,
magnetized by the light of the flame, vice
Versa, either way a courtship divine.
‘One of these hunts!’, I tell you, ‘These **** hunts!’
Like a bombed plane whirling around without
a tail. A pirate spat out by the sea,
dazed and glazed, naked and tangled in sea weeds
Bootless, and his crippled toes chewed off by *****
Plummeting! What a relief! The last buzz!
Let gravity do what it does best, and
crash the brown little treeless leaf on the grass.
.
