(After W.H. Auden)
Pop all the corks, crank up the hefty beats,
Procure the listless dog a bitch in heat
So they can yowl while you play smokin' drums.
Invite at random, everyone can come!
Flash the snoopicopter overhead,
Give them an eyeful, make their cop chops red.
Feed the pigeons, sod what killjoys say:
Give them an E, and watch them rave away.
The stars aren't bright enough - turn up the light!
Strobe the sun and glitter-ball the night,
Jacuzzify the ocean, pimp the woods,
A big shout out that life's turned solid good.
He's more than compass points, he's depth and time,
Each day, all years and incarnations: mine.
I knew this love would last, he's aced the test.
Isn't being right the total best?
If you've any comments about this poem, Gwen Seabourne would be pleased to hear them.