The Necrophilia Love Poem - probably not safe for work

 by Ashley Lister

 I need to preface this with an introduction as to how and why this poem relates to this week's theme. 

Last week I was chatting with Michelle about the Dead Good Poets workshops at Blackpool Central Library.  The workshops are always good and Michelle mentioned that some of the poets had (as always) contributed some exciting and innovative work, despite working with material outside their comfort zone. I made a comment about my admiration for one particular poet's ability to rise to every challenge presented, regardless of how extreme or bizarre, and this is the poem I came up with inspired by that poet's persistent resourcefulness.

So, that's the connection. This is the poem. 

The Necrophilia Love Poem

Nothing could be sillier 

than a bout of necrophilia

But I always get the bone

When I’m reading your headstone

I could be plundering your tomb

Then maybe plundering your womb

Cos you’re the one I truly crave

Whilst you’re lying in your grave

We’ll try a kinky new position

I don’t mind decomposition

In fact I think you’re really hot

And you’ve got a sexy plot

There’ll be lots of midnight boffin’

Whilst you’re lying in your coffin

I think it’s great you weren’t cremated

Your remains can be inseminated…

Nothing could be sillier

Than a bout of necrophilia

But I’ve thought on this for hours

And at least I’d bring you flowers

My soul might be damned and could be cursed

But it won’t matter that I finish first

And maybe you might turn cold to me

Or be coated with some mould I’d see

But our love’s not misbegotten

Though your flesh turns stale and rotten

If I gave your corpse a face full

You’d know that I was being faithful

Because one thing above all would still be true

Even in death, I’d still love you...

Regularly.