TO SUFFER FOR ART


If I should hesitate

Turn my back on this love

Then dear God above

What  the Hell is wrong with me?

Give me the clues

Give me some signs

Let me speak volumes in out of tone times.

If I should put on a dress

And leave my hair in a mess

I might meet an old duffer

Oh God then I would suffer

For art.

For this part

That lies inside

But I can hear the old duffer shout

So I say “Go on piss off you old trout”

The senile old fart

How I’ve suffered for art.

If I should strip off and dance

On the roofs of romance.

Would I get burned by the fires

Of Carnal desires?

Oh

Just put me in an arcade game

A three sided snooker frame

Let people play me

They don’t even have to pay me.

Just do something please

To get me away

To let me survey

The wreckage I am.

I can

Rebuild

I’ll just take it slow

But it’s such a long way to go

And I’m old and I’m sick

So perhaps I’ll take it quite quick.

If I should dream in dreaming choirs

Write reams of quires on golden lyres

Then all is done.

The settings of sun

The onsets of dawn

The laughters of fun

Finished.

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