there once was a time,
before your time,
when men were gentlemanly
and the ****** was celibacy

the air was purer
and if we were poorer
our lives were satiated
[with] meaning that radiated

quondam royals had mystique,
your wife was yours and was unique.
i often wonder what went wrong
but it's been too dark for much too long.

he's there lurking, in the background,
sometimes a woman, sometimes a man
sneering, smirking, i feel drowned
helpless i lie there, a ***** bedpan

i seem inimical,
i bristle,
like thistles,
with prickles,

eyes, dead weights,
droop in sockets,
as patriots for country
longing to be free.

but embrace me, i'll melt,
love can pierce outer pelt,
i've no savoir faire, i'm not suave or svelte,
but i'm sensitive, i'm human, i need to be felt

round and round this world goes,
a sphere and not a square,
and round and round the time flows
to only G-d knows where.

though time is linear
and moves in straight line
and year upon year
build on baseline

yet what was, will be,
it'll come around again,
but next time the enemy
will learn about pain

the chocolate brown, curling brew,
with ebony structure,
opens my eyes so i see you,
conscious rupture

what magic is this that stirs the mind,
bewitching spirit,
opens the eyes, gives sight to the blind
breaks speed limit

though indeed i rarely gormandise
this be my third cuppa
i need four cups before i can normalise
to last me to supper

perchance 'twas no feline
that killed my little robin
but plastic polystyrene
that was to be his coffin

i saw him there a-coughin',
his red breast there a-bobbin,
as if he was trying to swallow
but something wouldn't follow

so again, man's the killer,
earth-pollution, natural spiller,
poor robin was no tom-cat's dinner
but a victim of the human sinner