The Midnight Rainbow

My father was not a retired assassin
which he kept secret from us, his own kin;

the Revolution never thrust a big mistake
on me in the wood for that would be sick;

I was not made to see things which
no-one should and Natureís no bitch;

mother never slept with my buddy Paul
which is not the sickest thing of all;

they never took the Towers down
because of the verse of Jim Morrison;

I never was placed under a curse
and nothingís really mending worse;

the dog has not just weed in my bed
and I do not wish that I was dead;

in fact the midnight rainbow shines
and the toilet flushes with fine wines;

I definitely got to sleep with whom
I wanted back in the land of gloom;

my brain has not come under attack
from acid flashbacks trying to flashback;

Iíd really mind if they emptied space
of the human form without a trace;

the disappointment which I feel
is not the appearance of an electric eel;

my best ideas were not all stolen;
the front for my art should never be pollen;

I do not hear the myriad of voices
cutting down on my existential choices;

itís not the case that what can happen to you
may not just be naff but sick too;

desperate for sex with a dream full of ladies
I never had to loot wings from Hades;

so you see I may have it all wrong
and canít commit to literal things in song;

the sound of sirens is not heard near,
even if only brought on by The Fear;

a love Iíd need to blow all this away
never would tell me actually Iím gay:'

how dare you treat a human being like this?
The midnight rainbow mixes blood and piss.

Through it we escape from chronic pain,
or not as the case may seem to be again.

John F.B. Tucker

If you have any thoughts about this poem,  John F.B Tucker   would be pleased to hear them