Sex in situ

(not New York City)

no, please
we’re British
was once the line
don’t sneeze
or bite
too late
or before time
reproduction
is for youth
pleasure
sacrificed
for truth
surrounded
we with love’s
limitation
not Christ’s
but human’s
imitation
Around the piercing
below tattoos
bagpipes wailing
soldiers’ failing
not the flaunting
armed erection
but the waiting
sad dejection
far beyond
the village wench
no one dares
speak of the trench.

Dr T.P. Wilkinson writes, teaches History and English, directs theatre and coaches cricket between the cradles of Heine and Saramago. He is author of Unbecoming American: A War Memoir and also Church Clothes, Land, Mission and the End of Apartheid in South Africa. Read other articles by T.P..