He was my guy from Guyana.
Meant to be
on a business course but of course
he was a Wimpy chief
in a Wimpy bar.
Me I was a Wimpy
waitress.
He was mine & I was his.
Neighbours complained
that a black man was(shock horror)
coming & going!
This was after all...1968
& Jumpin’ Jack Flash was a gas gas gas.
Revolution was in the air.
Other tenants
voted to have me evicted.
I fought it tooth and nail
to no avail
& they got me
on the colour thing
said I had painted
the bedroom wall
(against the rules)
a shocking
deep puce.
Dónall Dempsey
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/it-s-a-gas-gas-gas/
