You’re the Lansi Kella – the burger girl
Who loves to trace her ancestry
Quarter Belgian, some German,
A barmy filling of English
And you’re still searching for the lost link
The unknown pedigree that can make you
A little bit of royalty
And I love you for all that – the conquistador in you
Who will trace maps with your own finger tips

And do you remember when I told you
Where I come from…..
– One half from an ovary and the other
From a testicle – and you seemed
To rupture in a roaring laugh
After all you are the only audience
To my zany buffoonery

And in that decibel-light laugh
Only your beautifully feminine voice
Can own, I could feel our worlds
Even coming closer
And my testicles are waiting
For your eggs to drop down your tubings and I, my love,
Am the jackass who will pollute your ancestry
With a little brown sperm
That will swim upstream
To meet humpty-dumpty halfway

And Bozo and Belle
Will be accomplices in that small creation
Making a legacy of our genes
After all what matters is not
Belgian or Sri Lankan, just that she
Is an equal member of the human tribe
As imperfect as both you and I are
Yet as perfect as the full moon
In our eyes capture
Sprinkling flawless moonbeams
To our awaiting retinas……


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