Alas, my knitting genius
Falls on fallow ground
Knitting genius
From my strong hands
And short bent prick
Blooming plums
Spurting, splashing
Pool on gansey
Does not soak through
But boss cows are stupid
Misled by Queen Victoria
And her court
And maybe Jane Austin
So I will mansplain
This is metaphor
for impregnability
Of spinning ladies’
feeble lady brains
To my genius
Which is maybe metaphor
For wanking
Who the hell knows any more?
