Ant Smith

All poems

You scratch me

Would you play me a quartet
If you had the arms to spare?
Would you dig up corpses
If I were lost in a mass grave?
Would you seek me out
If you had an itch somewhere?
I got the arms enough dear
The arms enough to care

Would you turn me a pirouette
Or does turning make you sick?
Would you ransack heaven
To help me escape from it?
Would you help me out
If I had an itch somewhere?
You turn me inside out my dear
You lay me truly bare

Would you sing me a libretto
With your dying breath?
Would you gladly undertake
An immoral immortal quest?
Would you scream or would you shout
If we had an itch to share
I've got the words enough dear
To fashion love from out of air