Amen

I don't generate ideas

Ideas generate me

Throughout the whole history

I'm like a Karel Čapek's robot

Being locked in an abbey

In a white vestment

Crossing my heart

With the golden crucifix

Praying for the sense of my existence

The bell is tolling the Middle Age

In the local tower

Amen

 

I'm a silent nun

Black and white

Gashes on my fingers

An amulet with your name

Hung on my neck

You're dead 

Glasses made out of

Two slices of a curious lollipop

Will my soul meet yours again?

 

Intrigued by your English tongue

I'm sucking your mouth muscle

I'm courting the French king's wig

Dismissive of jacket potatoes

Rainy London and Irish songs

Shepherds pies and the Scottish pipes

Sitting on the baroque's throne

I'm making allies on both sides

I want the French's baguette

To be baked by an English hand

Why fight? You stubborn bearded rams!

Renaissance is gone

Ample fields of bones

Of decaying bodies 

And smelly thumbs 

And wormy toes

And skeletons and skulls

A black background

White dots and stripes

Are gleaming in paintings by Michelangelo

Classicism is born 

In a luxurious manger

In another king's golden apple

His eyebrows so symmetrical

His gardens planting perfection

A heart drawn on a white cheek

High heel shoes

Pink bows tied tight

Clap clap on the silver floor 

 

Decades later....

 

Woody Allen's la-de-da 

Is la-de-daing in my ears

I'm like an eel

Swinging my hips 

To the English Channel's rough beat

Separating our feet

I'm blushing

In your arms

I'm sweating underneath your whirling

God don't ever stop!

You're driving my road in the dark

Making a new life

Intermingled wanting more 

Tossing me like a doll

You're riding my saddle

Rubbed by your skilful motion

You're reaching the summit

Of pleasurable feelings

As I'm squeezing you

At first so tight

Widening by your side

I'm voluptuous 

Am I not right?

Making you come

No matter in which angle I lie

I feel your embracing warmth

Spilling in my crotch

Oh boy what a joy!

 

So erotic is our epoch

Our time knitted by nakedness

Our era chiselled by openness

Queers and gays 

And sexual loquaciousness

What's gonna be next?