A Lunatic Song
The sun shone on my emergency
As I lost the thread of your fears,
Like an infidel calling Jesus
Dialling 999 through his tears.
Why was the siren screaming?
Why did the young men shout?
Did a bomb go off while I was dreaming
In the Ambulance of Doubt?
I'll never know the answer
Though your slender fingers give me a thrill,
And even if you've got cancer
I'll be in there for the kill!
I'd rather have your gentle corpse
To guide me through the night
Than a living, breathing prostitute
Or a loathsome catamite!
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
Added by Poetry Lover
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