Lawrence never owned up to show you
How to catch flies with a life on landing.
If she pricked her lung and lips, honestly,
It would not have taught her anything
About the short story neatly tied
A lesser man does not get stranded in the sky.
The girl continued with moral injunctions against Freud.
They must be republished for they were not
Whipped but spit on the walls
And wanted language to the end of breath.
Though it has been accepted,
He cries at her nakedness.
In new forms, whose hands
Could have the realm of absorption shoved down
As faded tenderness to us
In soft summer breeze poetry?
Splashing through unity,
Kicking, smashing decorously into captivity,
He whimpers to the message in time
So we can keep it as aversion of colliding steel,
While she kicks him up to the edges of art.
© Gerald England
Composed: Gee Cross, 5th November 1993
1998 Boggers All (UK)
1998 Black Creek Review (USA)
1998 Black Creek Review (Internet)
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