a poem from A Winter With A Moniker

I’LL GO NO MORE A-LOATHING WITH YOU FAIR MAID


You talked me from my dismal selfhood

with honest resentment and  derision enough;

you confirmed my worthless life should

not be lived in such a pointless slough:

although my tongue might pass a litmus test

with acidic witlessness and affected alkaline

you made it clear that my heart is a mere t-shirt crest

ironed on, a transfer outside covering lack of intestine.

And so, being all fruit and no fibre

billowing so much smoke without worthy calibre

the onerous I must be plucked out

and truth must emerge without doubt.

Thank you for your help in tearing the me away

there’ll be no more insufferable ego kneading

and there’ll be no more wanting day after day

and best of all, there’ll be no more needing,

ever

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