She won’t hug

 

She won’t hug

 

She’s beautiful & she knows it

But that’s not the point

We’re friends & I needed a hug

From a woman

My female friends in the country

Would hug with me

Coz they knew I was safe

& could respect boundaries

So far the city has proved hug-less

A whole generation

Raised under the no touch policy

Of our human services & educational

& corrective services

& so oh fuck I’m sick of thetical writing

Can’t I just write about having my named called

By someone seeking me out

& sometimes you hear it as an aural mirage

Maybe they’re calling for you

Somewhere far away

Or in the next life

It’s the sound that tells you

You are loved

& more importantly

Needed

Not just a scab on the surface of the earth

But rooted like the pepper tree

That’s right I was going to hug a tree

That’s always good

Mum was a tree hugger

I used to be so embarrassed

Until I realised later how cool she was

Caring little for what people thought of her

She was having a private spiritual moment

With the tree

Like the Muslims on the prayer mat

It feels good

Connecting to life

Like plunging into the depths

On a hot day

Transforming your spirit

Resetting you

Like a hug with a friend

& obviously sex

But that always comes with complications

As I was saying

I worry about a generation raised without

Human touch

& on pornography

Where does sensuality come in

& gentleness

I am reluctant to use the word foreplay

Because it sounds too causal or end focussed

Every human interaction is foreplay

A butterfly landing on a leaf witnessed

& thrilled to

Even putting a CD of Shostakovich Symphony 7

On the stereo

Really? Asks Felix

You have a point there old Fellatio

But of course there’s more to Heaven & Earth

Than is dreamt of in your philosophy

Funny guy says F

Legalise marijuana

Some of your best work

We have drifted says the balloon

How did I wind up in this basket

I’m terrified of heights

Which is why I avoid flying

Whenever I can

Even astral stuff

No that’s not my cup of tea

It’s yours

No I like the earth

Digging deep

Coleridge’s thick pants breathing

Wasn’t he high when he did that?

Countered Felix

Man I’m not feeling witty

Not in the mood for a duologue

I’m too blue

& moreover exasperated

So lonely

But you know what

I’m enjoying this balloon ride

More that I thought I would

You’re still never gonna get me up there

No I’ll stick with the ground

Shosta going nuts

How didn’t he have a breakdown?

His music is SO tense!

How do you maintain that level

Of excellence & intensity

I guess that’s why he was genius

& I’m an also ran

Still, even an also ran deserves a hug

I read this aloud to her

Thinking it might persuade her

But now she doesn’t want to know me

Yes Baudelaire

A poet writes paeans & it gets him nowhere!

Other than contempt

Which while it has its own deliciousness

Gives you the blues

Lonely in Hollis Springs, Mississippi

“Lotta times, you know”

RL Burnside, you’re better than alright

I love your album with the John Spencer Blues Explosion & your band

Blues is the healer

Be it southern USA or the old USSR

So yes in short Shosta can be part what I hesitate to call foreplay

Anything beautiful & indeed ugly

Intimacy with life

Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2025.