Rusty Lee

the problems in libya have been weighing on my mind recently. i wrote a poem some time ago which still rings true and brings comfort to those suffering human rights violations during these difficult times. it is called 'Rusty Lee'.

the evenings entertainment is a pub
costing money you dont have
giving you cancer you dont want
for where is the lonely persons muse?

do nothing in this den of sin to entertain
must i splay in bed?
listen to radiohead?
dare i suckle the electric teat of television?

locking my body in this fortress of semen
in the attic of a thousand faceless harletts
comforted only by the soft clasp of a warm tissue
rubbed vigorously against this flacid wand of protien
that shall never by touched by womens fair hand

unsheaf, release, erupt and ease
23 years of lonelyness, waiting, crying.
where is Rusty Lee when i needed the laughter?
where is Rusty Lee?