I'm contained like a dog
Chained to a roadside sign
A dean at the university
Of challenging ideas
Pinned against café tables
Amongst spreading whispers
Of how I'd love to love and be loved
Mind you, I am doing fine
I walk down the park lane
Toward the park lake whose
Mud underneath saw abuse
Albeit it too saw moments
Of intimacy on that bench
Opposite to park lane, by the park lake
From which I stubbornly ever looked away
In dismay
Affection I see from the seat
On the bus, and I think thus:
"what is it he has done
He against whose shoulder
She rests
That I've not quite figured out
Being stripped at birth of social instincts?"
I like sitting next to pigeons
There, on the park path
Bird friends devouring seeds
I've thrown at them
I've been told
Love has many forms
Not one better that the others
And the same person assessed
My ass sad and depressed
As quite sufficient on love
As they observed I had plenty of it to be
Able
To give it to others
