In Love with the Bomb

I've fallen in love & I've fallen heavily.
I've been watching the bomb for a long time
& I'm utterly infatuated.

Last night, at a party, I danced with the bomb.
We did the tango & we danced beautifully.
We talked about philosophy & homosexuality
& how much we hated our jobs.

I cuddled the bomb & the bomb responded
& we decided to go home together on my bicycle.
The bomb sat on the back
& we rode through the streets singing:
I could have danced all night...

We lay on the couch drinking scotch on the rocks
& the bomb leaned over to kiss me
& we embraced & the bomb kissed my neck, saying:
Quick, quick, press the button,
press the button, press the button
& we had a world shattering experience
as we exploded with passion.

Afterwards, we lay all over the floor, smoking,
& the bomb confessed to being married
but by then it was too late, I didn't care.
I want to elope with the bomb.
I know the bomb gets depressed
& I want to take the bomb on a holiday
away to Bali, to get away from it all.
The bomb needs a break
& I think I can make the bomb happy.

But, this morning, I woke, in an empty bed.
The bomb had pinned a note to my pillow:
Thanks for a wonderful night,
sorry to love you & leave you,
I will always be with you;
with love,
the bomb.


Myron Lysenko, from Coughing With Confidence.
(c)2002