Wednesday, 2 September 2009


A whole genre of porn has been lost to me whilst listening
To a mother describe it to her daughter: my mind’s
Eye will never again be able to assimilate images
Of women in bliss without imposing my loved ones
Faces upon them.

The facts of life are fine, as long as they’re explained out
Of earshot, and discreetly, but the woman preaching
This evening is neither quiet nor cautious, and because
Of it I’ll never be able to commune in darkened rooms
With myself again.

And it’s not as if the daughter’s gormless or has a gift for
Ignorance, or even needs sexual education to be
Expressed directly from the breast of her mother’s
Love as graphically as this, and in the company
Of an embarrassed dad,

But should she ever need to find her way around the out
Of bounds grounds that these performances currently
Occupy, and I’m sure a few more years will pass before
She does, then she’ll need to ask a master of such arts
Like me for the best dressed sites.


  1. Commune in darkened rooms with myself. This was good. Fun & friendly.

    quiet nor cautious has got to be wanted. Little typo thing.

  2. Aha...cheers Jim, it was indeed, you make a great editor... ;)

  3. An editor. That's what dad did for the LA Times. He'd miss the whole damn thing & notice the insignificant flaw. The horror