I am a true and faithful man,
I love my girl the best I can,
But can't let my libido go, it's
Just that I'm a randy poet.
I see a
pretty girl and so
I have to watch, see where she goes,
It isn't that I mean to stare,
But maybe there's a poem there.
What hands
may show or face might say,
Will give her secret thoughts away,
That furrowed brow and angry glance
I enter my poetic trance.
What are
these jabs that do intrude?
My ribs to bring a rather rude
Awakening - this is so unjust,
A poet's musings are not lust!
"I'll
bring a camera, snap men's arses,
Every time a fit one passes"
Vexatious girl why can't she see,
I'm just composing poetry.
Andy
Morley February 17th 2007
It's a
hard life being a poet. It's so easy to be misunderstood.
This poem should be read immediately after A Poet's
Lament. I really identify with Hogarth's take on
distressed poets - see the picture at the bottom of this
page.
