The missionary position

 

In spite of the delight

we undoubtedly find

in….

umm

a bit of variation,

I make a humble plea

for the missionary position.

 

I like the missionary position.

Where else can I run

with sweet abandon

through the mustard fields

into the gentle breeze?

 

The missionary position…..

my magic carpet,

on which I drift away…

to meet my best mate for a brew

to give the perfect interview,

to be a saint, or suffragette:

Joan of Arc, Millicent Fawcett.

 

Be other women with charisma,

like Gamble, fighting Darwin’s Dogma

Marie Curie with radiation

Bessie Coleman with aviation

Cleopatra, Boudaccia

Nurse Mary Seacole of Crimea

Harriet Tubman, Harriet Stowe

striking slavery blow by blow

Lise Meitner studying Gamma

Rosa Parks of Alabama.

 

I like the missionary position.

Where else can I scale

the notes of Maria Callas

and sneeze on the SOB who said

I couldn’t carry a tune!

 

I have exercised my right

to  take a fair bite

of  the world’s best erotica

to whet the appetite.

Kamasutra, the tantra,

the blissful union mantra;

the straddle, the squat,

climbing turtle, what not!

Oh! The exotic gymnastics,

defying the principles of physics.

 

Only in the missionary position

do I meet the stranger from long ago

whose even casual touch did make

me fly to a rapturous state

the likes of which I can not fake!

 

I like the missionary position.

Only here I have the space

to thank my mother

for telling me

my name means the full moon,

gleaming and whole;

and to thank life

for teaching me

that the moon wanes

to nights of utter darkness.

 

All ye women!

Even as you delight

in boots, belts, balls, breeches , braces,

vibrators, suspenders, mirrors,  

and  any other device

far beyond Ann Summers,

heed my sisterly advice!

 

Do not abandon

the weekly magnificence

of the missionary position!

Feb 19