It’s this exposure we all truly crave

My underwear is from the Holy Land
I’ll have to take it off for it’s been banned
Let me walk as naked as a babe
It’s this exposure we all  truly crave

Bethlehem  has got it’s own Wall now
Sign it with a pen, your blood, oh, anyhow
It’s like a plastercast on your own leg
It should come off but we don’t like to beg

I never know  where things I buy are made
My eyesight is not sharp enough for trade
I’ve got reading glasses, magnified  till pure
This loss of sight is hard to feel, endure

I see we still  have Lockdown  for the old
Why not shoot us all  as was foretold?
War is human as are  death and rape
Is the Resurrection true  or a mere jape?

I’d like to write a poem  that would convey
How it feels when I am  really gay
The sun is sinking  in the West tonight
Tomorrow they will change its path of light

The Leader has got chickenpox and flu
Send him postcards via London Zoo
He looks pale and anxious as he speaks
Yet  he has joints which  rarely seem to creak

I did read “Ariel” by Sylvia Plath
After reading that I could not laugh
A brilliant  transposition on the  hoof
The horse flew forward till the  dawn was loose

Should we get to vote I’ll vote  for Woe
Joy is harder, that we  surely know
Both are needed as the warp and weft
Otherwise we humans fall adrift

Do we still have spies and where are they,
In Cambridge changing gender every May?
In Oxford Union  killing a black man
In the garden eating  Tiptree jam

Can I break the code and understand
I am not who God made on demand?
He  creates, it is his personal mode
As  he walks alone down country roads

I welcome comments and criticism

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