Wild things in captivity
While they keep their own wild purity
Won’t breed, they mope, they die.
All men are in captivity,
Active with captive activity,
And the best won’t breed, though they don’t know why.
The great cage of our domesticity
Kills sex in a man, the simplicity
Of desire is distorted and twisted awry.
And so, with bitter perversity,
Gritting against the great adversity,
The young ones copulate, hate it, and want to cry.
Sex is a state of grace.
In a cage, it can’t take place.
Break the cage, then; start in, and try.