The End of Longing

That was the name of the paper that I
Tore into shreds on the stairs

The baggage was packed in the hallway
In the bathtub our warped, mingled hairs

Goodbye to your chivalrous gestures
Farewell to your circumcised cock

That stood like a flag pole when I wasn’t there
Illicitly taking in stock

Of all those encounters with Janet and John
With Simon and Lindsay and Frank

Some nameless, most blameless
But all wholly shameless

When serially getting it off
In nightclubs, in fright-clubs, in car parks and lavs

In wooded glens, whisky joints, dives
Yes you romped, for England, for Scotland and Wales...

When you could have gone home to your wives