I picked up a book of Keats poems
From a stack of books left out in the street to be taken.
I read his poems pretending to understand them,
Until I got to the back of the book,
Where the page was titled Light-hearted and nonsense,
And those I could understand. Those were like mine.
So, my poems are as good as the stuff Keats passed off as nonsense.
Tells me all I need to know, really, about my writing.
Fuck me up the arse and call me Mary,
I said out loud, I was so surprised.
And Auntie Janet dropped her tea cup,
into the saucer with quite a crash, and splash.
You don't get fucked up the arse, do you, hon,
said Janet. I'd thought you far to masculine for that?
First of all, hearing my old aunt say fucked up the arse
was really quite a trip and something I had to take in,
but, you know, it's a modern world, and it takes all sorts.
Why? Do you think it is a sin? I asked.
No, said Janet, with a twinkle in her eye,
I just found it hurt, when Simon tried it on me.
Oh, but you get used to it, we both said in unison, Janet and me.
And we laughed and laughed, sharing a ciggie, or two.
After that, she and I had a conspiracy that we shared,
and we were really much closer for it. Anal sex?
Who'd have thought? with Janet pushing 70 by then.
If someone commits an abominable act
against you, or your family,
you have no choice but to forgive them,
not because they deserve forgiveness,
but because you deserve peace.
Jesus, fuck me sideways, that was a surprise to me
Bread and wine in my hands down on my knees
I didn't spill a drop despite the tail wind catching me,
– body & blood, you know –
even if it was a little difficult finding my mouth rocking to and fro.
Jesus, Maria, Sister, George,
Did you Brides of Christ not know what the guys were up to?
Surely, you must have had a clue?
Were you looking the other way for a reason,
Or did the divine spirit completely desert you?
Oh no, god moves in mysterious ways,
Letting the priesthood be filled with the gays
When apparently, it’s against what the good book says,
Leaving them only the boys that come into their gaze.
You believe mystical bullshit,
You talk dreamed up mythical bullshit,
You facilitate bullshit happening,
More lives ruined than saved.
