Allow me to be frank
At the commencement
You will not like me.
The gentlemen will be envious
And the ladies will be repelled.
You will not like me now and you will like me
A good deal less as we go on.
Ladies,
An announcement.
I am up for it.
All the time
That is not a boast or an opinion
It is bone-hard medical fact.
I put it round, you know.
And you will watch me putting it round
And sigh for it.
Don’t
It is a deal of trouble for you.
And you are better off watching and drawing
Your conclusions from a distance
Than you would be
If I got my tarse up your petticoats.
Gentlemen,
Do not despair.
I am up for that as well.
And the same warning applies.
Still your cheesy erections till I’ve had my say
But later when you shag,
And later you will shag,
I shall expect it of you,
And I will know if you have let me down
I wish you to shag
With my homuncular image
Rattling in your gonads.
Feel …
How it was for me, how it is for me.
And ponder.
Was that shudder
The same shudder he sensed?
Did he know something more profound?
Or is there same wall of wretchedness
That we all batter with our heads
At that shining live-long moment?
That is it.
That is my prologue
Nothing in rhyme.
Not protestations of modesty.
You were not expecting that, I hope
I am John Willmot.
Second Earl of Rochester.
And I do not want you to like me
-------------------------
So, there he lies at the last
The deathbed convert.
The pious debauchee.
Could not dance half a measure, could I?
Give me wine, I’d drain in dregs
And toss the empty bottle at the world
Show me our Lord Jesus in agony,
And I mount the cross
And steal his nails for my own palms
There I go, shuffling from the world,
My dribble fresh upon a Bible
I look upon a pinhead ..
And I see angels dancing.
Well?
Do you like me now?
Do you like me now?
Do you like me now?
Do you like me .. now?
This post has been edited by Juniper on 23 Feb 2008, 07:59