ALMS IN BONDAGE

A variety of knots is the splice of life.*

I’m selling my collection of bondage books because I’m strapped for cash.
I find no escape from the rumours I’m into bondage,
All the same, admitting it feels quite rash.
Like a dozen dermatologists in a hundred metres dash,
Or the painters and decorators’ run on the beach, known as the ‘pebble dash.’
Still, not being funny, the clowns had a good run for their money.

Fundraising for charity requires hearts of gold,
So I learned at home—where charity begins, I’m also told.
I might make a charitable donation once my books are sold.
After all, a pitiless pervert has a heart that’s truly cold.
It’d be awful to be considered a mean person as well as getting old.

With regard to my ‘specialist’ books, if an appropriate buyer can be found,
They will be delighted to know all my volumes are leather-bound.




*From ‘Ask Prometheus, He’s Bound To Know’ by A. Struggler (Geek Myth Books, Brighton 1974).