Sonnet #88
Maxine fills out songs, day soap operas
Girl hard done by, one whom people bully
For no good reason - I think you're a lass
With sad brown eyes, red hair so unruly.
I'm Downs syndrome, still I live life fully
Despite the mockery, putdown abuse,
I've learnt how to count to ten quite coolly,
Outnumbered ever, I burn one long fuse.
Maxine, after parole, as when you're loose,
When your perjury pickle is distant
At my IHC workshop you might choose
Life as my sweet missus-cum-assistant.
The technical term for me: trisomy,
That mustn't be mixed up with bigamy.
{3D interactive chorus:}
The technical term for me: trisomy.
The technical term for me: mongoloid.
The technical term for me: cretin.
[l13 only line unmodified for typeset
and correct rhythm. Content unchanged.
24/9/05.]
lines to correct: Maxine dear, after parole, when you're loose
and: In the IHC workshop if you choose