Thursday, September 8, 2011

Kingsley Amis Poem

Nothing to Fear

All fixed: early arrival at the flat
 Lent by a friend, whose note says Lucky sod;
 Drinks on the tray, the cover-story pat
 And quite uncheckable; her husband off
 Somewhere with all the kids till six o'clock
 (Which ought to be quite long enough);
 And all worth while: face really beautiful,
 Good legs and hips, and as for breasts - my God.
 What about guilt, compunction and such stuff?
 I've had my fill of all that cock;
 It'll wear off as usual.

 Yes, all fixed. Then why this slight trembling;
 Dry mouth, quick pulse rate, sweaty hands,
 As though she were the first? No, not impatience,
 Nor fear of failure, thank you, Jack.
 Beauty, they tell me is a dangerous thing,
 Whose touch will burn, but I'm asbestos, see?
 All worth while - it's a dead coincidence
 That sitting here, a bag of glands
 Turned up to concert pitch, I seem to sense
 A different style of caller at my back,
 As cold as ice, but just as set on me.