
There once was a flight attendant/
who men thought was heaven sent*./
My phone request got a “maybe”/
because she wants to have babies,/
and can’t see that’s where I went.
OR
*resplendent.
There was so much noise/
I couldn’t hear what I should/
Do for me. She could.
The more I hear of/
other guys, the more glad I/
am of who I am.
Let art always be, /
even when there’s no stage nor /
vaunted gallery.
Let art, poetry,/
and song always be,/
even/
when there’s no stage,/
nor print,
nor gallery.
The waiting room and/
His Priesthood are the same. It’s/
me who’s fin’lly changed.