To sit by Mr Aneurin Bevan

When I die I am going to Heaven
To sit by Mr Aneurin Bevan
We will eat buttered Welsh cakes
Float in hot blue lakes
Oh final thought, how about Devon?

I wonder if I am perverted
For writing my poems with  ten verses
They say we’re post modern
And swearing’s forbidden
So are magic,religion and cursing.

I wonder if I  can be fluid
A man or a woman or druid?
I can be other
Since I have no mother
But what about rats in the sewage?

To economists we are just” Labour ”
We’re units when  once we were neighbours
Gender’s  quite useless
True  love is a nuisance
Capital  makes Money our Saviour

Why not  buy a new winter coat
Decorated with  the fur off a stoat
Weasels are  cheaper
Cats  purr and pierce you
As you sail ‘cross the Styx   in  a  boat

I thought I’d not marry again
I’m a feminist along with the men
But a m\n tried to hug me
And tickled my kidneys
He says I’m charming the snakes  into sin

But I think I am past getting wed
I just want to go straight to bed
Not just for the pleasure
Of getting his measure
No, it’s  just that  my organ’s half dead

I’d gaze into his eyes and feel good
As at last I’d feel  well understood
We don’t need to  chatter
About any matter
Nor scratch like the cat and draw blood.

I think my bed is too small
The headboard is stuck to the wall
The mattress collapses
As do my synapses
Who do you think  should call?

I’ve been untidy  ever since I was born
I lost mother’s breast  and her warmth
I’ve been looking forever
I got rather clever
Now I’ve lost my old man in the corn