Queer Nation

(A blast from a dimly remembered past, the poem that got me to the final of a Wales-wide performance poetry competition. Now, if I could just remember the year!?)
 
it's a perversion
I'm fucking certain
shouldn't be allowed
but hey                       I'm out                        I'm proud
 
I'm a home-owner-sexual
strip my woodwork bare
salivate over mortgage rates
yes, I really care
 
about
 
dry rot and wet rot
and whether or not
the paint I got
will really match
 
natch-
rally
 
I don't go to Paris
Texas more my scene
Homecare, Home'n'Ware
it makes me want to scream
 
(I was going to do the bathroom puce
now I think I'll make it green)
 
DIY at MFI and garden chairs from Texas
B&Q, and me and you
very much see sex as
 
building up the homestead
adding value from a can
as for the garden
we've got it neatly planned
 
and how do Do It All do it
can anybody tell
yet
if only I knew how Do It All do it
you can bet
I'd be doing it as well

 
We're home-owner-sexuals
dribble over shots
of furniture from Habitat
and we've got lots and lots
 
of time to trawl the aisles
of newsagents called Menzies
flicking through magazines
full of luscious thingies
 
Ideal Home is favourite
it makes us want to come...
back again next month
and buy another one
 
and patio rhymes with fellatio
no coincidence I think
my favourite place to do it
is at the brand-new kitchen sink
 
where
 
I can look over the garden
creosote the shed
picture an ornamental arch
in my bent and twisted head
 
I'm a home-owner-sexual
improvements my peccadillo
there's an offer on beds I can't afford
and tears on my pillow
 
and orgasm rhymes with phantasm
but you haven't a ghost of a chance
I'm in a decorating spasm
and you're not getting in my pants
 
in summer we have barbecues
in winter we sit pretty
watch news about the homeless
from our island in the city
 
How was it for you?
​