The cottage in the park

I know he’s been here before

That urine stained stench sticking

To the barnacled weeded flowers

Fag butts dropped like bullets

Around the foot of that oak tree

Condoms discarded like deflated party balloons

Tell-tale signs of broken branches

He’s usually comes here at night after prayer meeting

In his well pressed suit and duffle coat

Looking for someone to impress

With the blessed size of his manhood.

Looking for someone who’s already lost their soul

I used to bring my children here to play

Amid the lawned grass and the rows upon rows

Of flowers.

The flowing river looks marvellous in spring

And the roman remains tell of another hour.

Then all hell broke loose and they came in their droves

Descending like locus in the dead of night

With music blaring and full beams on

The cruisers spoilt the place where I took my wedding vows

Now he strolls the canals all alone

The council got wind of it and cut down all the bushes

In all kinds of weathers he bares his soul

No wonder God gave up on him

He prays on the vulnerable.

I’m not homophobic no not in the least

But one should have decency if his mind is in tact

A minister of music should know his place

And set the example he has once been set

His arrogant nature makes him hostile to man

His predatory bent makes dogs on heat look tame

I’m glad I’ll never see him at that church again

Or down the canal as I’m moving on.

To a place where the air is clean

and no hypocrites frequent my space

or trample on my dreams