I, I am a brute
A drummer boy bobbing for fruit
If I took a distaste
at the tone of his voice
or the fray on his face
No no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no
I, I am shy
and I am gentle
I've fingered the leech of her
lips as if they were petals
No no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no
But above all
I am quick
I can decide whether a boy
should be hung by the neck
or held at the heel
In the time it takes
to mount my high horse
And so,
Giddy up

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