Ma frère, seven years ago
In the United parking lot
Borger, Texas, urging me on
Like a pimp:
"You see that girl in the express lane?
I bet she'd like to fuck you;
Why don't you go and ask her?"
Six years after it was "discovered"
That casual sex can kill
Thirteen years ago
They got the bill
For the sex ten years
Ago was free
So I tell him:
"I'm not interested."
His reply:(enter cliche)
"What's the matter,
Don't you like girls?"
In the usual, suspicious
Jeering, contemptuous tone
My comeback:
"I don't like sex
What it's become
In twenty years
A weapons check
Your generation
Fucked it all up
I'm sure you weren't
Getting it up yours
From a man
Who could have
Given it up hers
Before she got
Yours in wherever
You put it
But you didn't
Exactly ask
So, fifteen years later
Everybody's
Bodies locked bodies
And every man
Since '67's
Been a skeleton key
Leaving skeletons
And you wonder
If there's something
Wrong with me!"

© 1995 Bruce V. Bracken