WE MAKE THE LOVE HANDLES RAW /
MAKE ME NEW AGAIN
Colloquial speech takes over and people
now say what they may. Making the love
handles raw, I'm told, means a long night
of 'making whoopee' - as true oldsters
would say. Great Grandpa and such.
We've all arrived here from passion,
and even they loved in a fury.
-
The denim-bib overalls came down as
often enough as they went up. 'Unlace
yourself for that harmonious charm
tells me from you now 'tis your
bed-time!' - as John Donne put it
in 'To His Mistress Going To Bed.'
-
Only a lunatic distress would have a
poet directly address his God. Here is
Donne again, and he's done it again:
'Batter my heart, three-personed God,
for you as yet but knock, breathe, shine
and seek to mend; That I may rise and
stand, o'erthrow me and bend your
force to break, blow, burn and make
me new again.'
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