Rock an Roll star,
When first my eyes gazed upon your mighty bonce,
My heart thudded like a badger being bludgeoned
By an angel of lust,
With a diamond encrusted spanner!
Your eyes like stars from a distant planet,
Where Mod aliens dance fabulous tangos in your honour.
Your silken scarves and studded belts!
Your stylish cowboy boots make my backbone jellify,
Dribbling down my legs,
Like custard over a passion pudding.
I’m off my tits at the thought of your off-cuts!
Gosh darn it!
You’re a bit lovely.
Your graceful hands dispensing millet to Gods great creatures,
With an affectionate wonder,
Innocent and true,
Strutting in your poncho,
With your sexy ju ju!
Jagger tosses in his sweat soaked sheets at night,
Wishing he was you!
I imagine us floating on a giant crisp packet to the moon,
And contemplating why bats only come out at night when their blind anyway,
Whilst eating red jelly tots and counting cyber midgets under a meteor shower,
“Starman” playing in the background.
As I run my fingers through your beautiful barnet,
Quivering with excitement,
And run my fingers though your gorgeous god-like locks,
Quivering with anticipation,
And run my fingers through your glittering mane,
Dribbling with desire…
Well maybe not dribbling,
That congers up thoughts of demented old ladies,
And I’m actually quite young and nubile,
But to be fair I am a bit demented,
I’ve got sand from Jim Morrison’s grave in a pot by my bed for one thing,
But that’s another story for another time!
Of mighty King of the Mods,
I shall serenade your gargantuan (I love that word, it makes me a bit horny) grin,
And childlike artistry,
And unmatched wit,
Are we to be trapped together in a box by a cockney nut job?
One can only hope!
Paint my butt checks with your psychedelic scribbles,
Toss me your used sweet wrappers,
And I’ll treasure them as I would a small big eyed rabbit.
I have developed an unnerving habit,
Of pause and zoom,
Watching you smile in slow motion,
My love/lust/slight obsession,
Bigger than a really big ocean.
I do a little dance,
Under the brightest sombrero wearing star,
Rolling off the tongue like…
This is one of those poems in progress where you can make up your own endings.
I love you have my babies!