Derrière Mastication

Dear Sir,
I am a man –
though I may dress like a girl
and smell like a pig
a man is what I am.
So do let me by
with my lazy eye,
with my nineties cut,
with my face – like your butt!
And with this limp (why I walk like a pimp)
let me pass.

Let my skinny arse
breeze by your frame.
Let my dim-dull brain
and my too-big feet
tread this nowhere street.
Give my erroneous nose
the space it needs,
as it goes,
do not stand in my stride
as my knock-knees collide.

’Cause I’d do the same
for your irksome name –
and I’ll let your flat face pass on free
if you’ll just shut it tight
and let me be.

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