FONDLING STRANGERS

I like to fondle strangers that I meet:
Young women, soft and warm and not too thin,
On buses, at the pictures, in the park.
I like to feel my skin against their flesh.

It's not that I am trying to attract,
Or desperately looking for romance;
Just curious to see how they respond,
And whether they are wearing any tights.

You'd be surprised the fuss some of them make.
I could have many hobbies ten times worse:
Collect antiques, breed ferrets or bake bread,
Write poetry and bore the world with rhymes.

So come on, ladies, make me thrilled to bits,
And let me get my hands upon your knees.