Aunt Jemima, My Next Fling. Poem by Jacques De Boys

To the sexless nurturer, the one that 
rapes the long suffering of abstinence.
I've noticed your equivalence to Uncle Tom.

'I'se in town, honey! ' Looking as huzzy as can be.
Girl you can start an argument in an empty house.
&
For a man, I've never slept in my own bed. But!  
For the PO'Boy that I am, I am one fry short of 
a happy meal. 

By the dear name I know you as, you out do 
the journey a butter takes. Suddenly, I think I 
can make out your features. You are complete;  
You are whole; your missing conflict. 

A mind to you. I don't think you could tell me a thang 
or two about mixing. At night, like your image, we 
should be one door closed to purity. I can rent 
out the space of love and grip on the life that beats.
With little distinction, your lips are pink- I could die 
in envy of them. 

A kiss?