Ought To Be

Was it the thought of penance
deserved which brought it to a
head – or, as an almost empty
roll-on deodorant bottle stored
upside down in aged patchouli
scented pot-pourri of mauve &
cherry shaded wood-shavings –
where it sits self-righteously,
that it played the lead role?

Although I don’t know faithfully
what makes the World go round –
heady scent of today’s pure body
odour untainted in a sour sweat
unbathed of yesterday’s labour
still takes a power of beating. My
simple mind says it is a clearly
aphrodisiacal way of how things
ought to be.
© 18 June 2008, I. D. Carswell