You make me want to riot, but in a quiet way;
No danger, no looting, none of the usual things,
Like scooting along in a jeep for a quick getaway,
No shouting ‘smash the state,’ or berating poor policemen.
But I do want to riot over you and plant
flowers where concrete grew before.
And what’s more, I’ll eschew all morals
and have my way with you in strange places.
I’ll kiss you on the roofs of colleges. I’ll kiss your feet.
We’ll make love in the dark foyers of important buildings.
I’ll sanctify you, beatify you, burn down the sky
and then fly down to hell to rescue you.
And I won’t look back for I’ve nothing to look back to.
I’ll riot and I’ll cry and sometimes I’ll throw stones;
But only to the sea where I’ll see your curves reflected
in a million ripples.
I’ll make you ripple ice cream.
I’ll hold you in such a way, and then
when you think I’m going to let go, I won’t.
I’ll just keep holding you all day
and the night will find us purring.