A lady told me I could be cured,
weird because I wasn’t ill.
She told there’s clinics to cure pansexuality,
“cure the sin and release the sinner dear girl,
lasts just a half hour a week.”
I think there’s better ways to spend a half hour,
curled up with a beautiful woman for instance.
Or thinking of been curled up with a beautiful woman
(it’s hard to find someone looking for a work alcoholic
writer who smokes incessantly but everyone has their type
so I live in hope)
I told her I was reading about these clinics
that cure prejudice,
“cure the sin and release the sinner dear girl”,
told her they were quite successful.
Didn’t add unlike her crazy scheme
against natural feelings.
But let’s end on a high,
let me say that I respect those who
leave the dark and come into the light,
those who leave prejudice behind.
I respect you completely,
I ain’t one to hold grudges,
It’s better late than never
and I thank you.
Poem: Clinics
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