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deepundergroundpoetry.com
A Single Thought
Each skirt she has - a single thought -
To ride the crest of a submissive wave;
It plays the part she needs it to; it ought,
Before it is pushed back into the grave
Of her subconscious mind to fester, brood
And breed a hundred deviant ideas
To rise up: a fresh fashion, as these rude
Conceptions leave her helpless and her fears
Are each whipped up by winds, like autumn leaves
To be tidied and burnt, reduced to ash:
These thoughts unneeded now; for she believes,
After October's passion, she can mask
Dreamy fucks long gone, she'll so remember,
Come the steady chill of cold November.
To ride the crest of a submissive wave;
It plays the part she needs it to; it ought,
Before it is pushed back into the grave
Of her subconscious mind to fester, brood
And breed a hundred deviant ideas
To rise up: a fresh fashion, as these rude
Conceptions leave her helpless and her fears
Are each whipped up by winds, like autumn leaves
To be tidied and burnt, reduced to ash:
These thoughts unneeded now; for she believes,
After October's passion, she can mask
Dreamy fucks long gone, she'll so remember,
Come the steady chill of cold November.
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