Cosmos

Here he comes bearing bouquets
Of self-fertilising flowers to flatter ugly women with
To conquer them with the syphilis he calls civilisation
In a blur of open zippers and blatant contradiction
Self-destructively intense he brooks no opposition
The zenith of dissolution, the Satan of the botanical garden

And none of this should happen to a minimalist
Strutting on the catwalk of isolated days
So I give my foe the slip, from a cowslip's bell I sip
Slumming in my slutty little rockery all day
Trying to evade the great parade
And working on my play

But he's a human, he's a woman
In a sparkly push-me pullover
On a checked pyjama sleepover
He can pull you like a pushover
In a blur of open zippers
Like a sleazy, tawdry opera
Performed in bedroom slippers
My official opposition, self-destructively open
He brooks no contradiction
Strutting on the catwalk of his isolated days
Here he comes again
The Satan of the botanical garden

A hidden basement poltergeist
Drinking gin and peppermint
Scuffling, mincing, bent
Quite magnificent

Life is green, I am puce
Life is mauve, I am orange
Straw in the wind, straw in the wind
Straw in the wind
Fly, fly, fly
Hic, haec, hoc
Straw in the wind
Life is mauve on purple grass
Shafts of light
But we are merely insects
Existing on the tail of a turtle
That grows upwards, downwards, sideways
Into the concrete cosmos