'taste'

‘taste’

“You can’t do Jeffrey Dahmer” says the voice

Inside my head that censors what I say

“A gag about a cannibal?” “My choice”

I counter then begin to tap away.

Til inspiration blinds me as It glints

Into a scene in Woody Allen’s head

That features several Mini-Pops With squints

Immobilised while gaffer-taped to bed

And still the voices say to even speak

Of what your psyche kicks out is a crime

That Princess Margaret face down in the beak

Is – poss – a tale to tell some other time…

You throw away the words you’ve written: Waste!

A shame that we’re all slaves, these days, to “taste”.

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