A Lunatic Song Poem by John Thorkild Ellison

The sun shone on my emergency
As I lost the thread of your fears,
Like an infidel calling Jesus
Dialling 999 through his tears.

Why was the siren screaming?
Why did the young men shout?
Did a bomb go off while I was dreaming
In the Ambulance of Doubt?

I'll never know the answer
Though your slender fingers give me a thrill,
And even if you've got cancer
I'll be in there for the kill!

I'd rather have your gentle corpse
To guide me through the night
Than a living, breathing prostitute
Or a loathsome catamite!