Fetish Poem by Don Pearson

I present, for sale at auction and
For my benefit:

Keith Moon's broken drumsticks

Winston Churchill's trousers

Queen Elizabeth's virginity

A quill pen, reputedly used by Dickens

The bottled fragrance of Lady Hamilton
Fresh from making love to Nelson

A little duck that John Lennon
Played with in his bath
When he was one year old.

*

Once we revered the bones of a saint
Or ate our enemies to gain their strength.
Still we wish to touch
The hem of our lord's robe.

Let me now bury my hands
In the earth,
Rub the dirt over my body,
Look at the sun
And bask in its glorious light.