Keys to Ecstasy

           You Do Not Possess The Keys To Ecstasy
                   Copyright c 2005 John Trubee 
 
           You do not possess the keys to ecstasy;
           Heaven resides within my head.
           You strut in sexual glory yet offer me nothing;
           Why ought I to dog after you?

           I choose to bicycle in freedom
           To traipse misty morning shores
               devoid of idiot people
           To ride in leaf-dappled sunlight
               on paths not taken
           To huff uphill to watch the sun fall down  
           To sing insane songs and hum humanistic hymns
               no one will ever hear

            I conquered worlds beyond imagining
            Made myriad strangers guffaw
            Sojourned across a continent into the sun
            Vomited mad antipoetry on uncomprehending ninnies          
            Tussled with and victoried over recalcitrant jerks

            Yet still to the shopping pygmies
            I remain an invisible unknown
            Of no import or concern
            Only worthy of pushing out of the way
            To the next exciting department store sales bargain

             Where you derived the notion
            That your caprice of withheld ecstasies
                 will submit me to heel
             I do not know--
             But it is false.