Sharks
The water flows over me faster than oil
It melts in my mouth like a butter
I'm faster by far than a spark on a coil
Or the speed of a camera shutter
I turn like an axle that's smothered in grease
I'm harder to catch than a flock of wild geese
With new dermal denticles stuck to my skin
I possess a torpedo's libido
I leave smooth smears of egg on the minister's chin
But you won't spot my spurt on a speedo
By the time that you've seen the new flash on my tunic
I'll have shifted my brilliant body to Munich
[March 2000]