You see this flesh
and you want to possess me.
Since you are terminally thick
you misconstrue my jests as reality.
Even my insults are erogenous to you
since you don’t understand simple sentences.
and though I slap away your feeble grip
still you think you can heal me
by hiding your pricked-up mess
in the opening between my thighs.
You speak of love
as if it’s a gift which cannot but hold my interest;
a treat that must surely fascinate
*(She said “Love? Lord above,
now you’re tryin’ to put me in love.”)
Looks like you’re too late, mate.
Better men have tried,
but worse men got there first.
You missed the train by miles.
If you’d been there with your fists fifty years since,
you could have licked the rapist and changed my history,
but you were busy with some silly missus,
making your own mistakes, shouting down deaf alleys,
cursing, boozing, losing at pool,
the two of you taking turns to screw up your kids,
and I wouldn’t have looked twice even then.
*Lyric from Free; All Right Now.
©Jane Paterson Basil
Typical, typical, Jane. I fear you fucked up again with this one, darling. You called it “garbage” I recall. An opinion so forgettable, it’s taken me less than 15 minutes to forget the other equally vulgar word you used in describing it. It might take a day, it might take a year, but in the end you’ll see it — it’s damn good.
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“You speak of love
as if it’s a gift which cannot but hold my interest;
a treat that must surely fascinate”
How that one resonates with me! Tomoko. “You owe me, you prick! I’ve earned your love. I’ve bought it. It’s mine now.” Or words to that effect. I enjoy being able to laugh these days at what used to confuse and thrown me down.
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I’d love to come up with an effervescent response, but I’m falling asleep at my laptop. Not from boredom, I hastily add.
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Sleep well, Jane. Try to get some rest.
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Why do I feel terribly sad and angry after reading this! Sigh!
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Your words are searingly good!!!
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Just another silly distraction 🙂 I don’t feel any of the anger.
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Silly distractions are so therapeutic xx
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I’m feeling like Billy the snow plough train, the more snow I push off the track, the more it snows on the track, I’ve already cleared, the cycle is never ending, and I’ll end as Jack the shit-can truck anyway……. That’ll do, I forgot what I was trying to say or do, the older I get, more of the same shit comes out of the the same old suit. If the hat fits wear it. If your shoes have too many holes in them, you’ve walked too many miles. One of us cannot be wrong
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I’m learning to become my own cobbler 😉 It’s all you can do in the end. This poem is an example of my cobbling; I wrote it to distract myself from my real troubles. It helped a little.
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Helping your self and looking after yourself is very important, any sort of distraction is great for our wandering minds. I’ll be sending my shoes over for repair 😁😁. Lots of love and hugs from Ivor. xxooxx
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xxx
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Jane, I am troubled to say that I just now discovered someone has gone and defamed you. As I just now told, Ivor — who was also defamed — It breaks my heart they would do such a thing to such a woman as yourself.
The blog critic Gus Johnson out of Leper’s Gulch, Colorado, mentioned you and Ivor in his column today — and cast you both in a heinous light.
I link you to his remarks with tears of frustrated outrage in my eyes:
https://cafephilos.blog/2019/03/09/the-key-in-the-lock-to-the-door-of-life/
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I’ve read your post, Paul. I meant to leave a comment, but I had so many thoughts about it that I gave up before I started. Suffice to say it looks flawless to me. Is there any chance you can send me a link to that clown’s URL so I can see if he is usually that insulting and libellous? Not that I’m particularly bothered by the passage about me – unless it offended Ivor.
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Thank you for your kind words, Jane! A link, you say? A link to Gunning Gus, the South Park Colorado Saboteur of All that is Sacred and Inviolate about Blogging?
You know, that puts me strongly in mind of the Woodland Park Donut Mill breakfast and lunch restaurant — and especially in mind of their sausage, biscuits, and gravy. Have I yet mentioned to you, Jane, the divine pleasure of feasting on their sausage, biscuits, and gravy?
Back in the day, we’d take road trips that more or less began with an early morning stop at the Donut Mill. Then off through South Park, turning left in time to take North La Veta Pass into the high San Luis Valley.
Ah! The San Luis. So sparsely populated, so devoid of artificial lights at night, the Milky Way explodes in detail — firecrackers frozen in mid-explosion and then hung on the infinite black of eternity.
Of course, our road trips almost always were to Valley View Hot Springs — the nudist resort in the San Luis. Oh the days of soaking in the pools of Valley View. The wild deer will sometimes come to within thirty or so feet of you to graze while you are soaking in the pools of Valley View.
Thank you so much, Jane, for asking about our road trips. It has been nothing less than a pleasure to tell you about them! Bless you, Jane, for your curiosity.
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It’s a pleasure, oh light of my life.
I shudder to think what tricks you get up to on April Fool’s Day. Last weekend I had a long discussion with my best friend about Gus. She thinks I should quietly creep away, but I like to live dangerously, so – having given the matter due thought, I have accepted his grovelling offer of marriage. I’ll never let him out of my sight, since there’s no knowing what he might get up to when my back is turned. We’ll be so happy together. I’ve ordered twin beds; I’ll have one of that hanky-panky once we are married.
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