Within my head already a tune
To transcribe within that tattered book
That I keep close in shallow nook
One which brims with mind’s undressings
Psalms and sonnets, laments and blessings
I am a master at my craft
And as I scribe initial draft
I’m overcome by my construction
Perfect form and grand seduction
Words that leap and words that flow
At places high and Voltas low
They’ll shout my name’s enunciation
And issue true and grand devotion
And I will hear them shout my name
Again in chorus, lov’d again
By crowds that clamour and call for more
Yet still I feel irrevocably poor
All their happy cheers are lie
I wish to kick them in the eye
And end their joyful suppositions
With my eternal deposition;
I am a maggot, foul and rude
By fear and loss I am pursued;
A miserable ragged crow
That like a daemon dwells below
Beneath the fecund peaty mulch
I glib and greer and pleb and gulch
Alive and rotting in my grave
A tight and worm infested cave;
My body lost! and still I weep,
A charming man invades my sleep
And seduces me with subtle prepositions
That I will record in d’ble editions
In Vinyl and in CD form
But for all this wealth I am not warm
It is in misery I find my solace
It wraps me round like charming bodice
And when I think of all my hate
A sleeping dragon lies await
And roars alive as my erection
Huge and wide and pure perfection
It clefts a blow against my chin
That juts so large, and I begin
To gasp, and clasp, and then to sin.
My melancholy fuels my lusts
As I unleash my seminal gusts
That smash the ceiling, plaster falls
And little rocks dash ‘gainst my balls
And as my teary ecstasy concludes
I realise I am in my nude
The force of desire rent my pyjamas
Exploding with a panorama
Snowy white, and potent, pure
How can no one see mine allure?
And as again I feel alone
Within my groin does stir my bone;
My misery is my great joy;
But if only I could love a boy.
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