The rules don’t apply to me,
I know, I roil around current genes
Melded by mismatched parents
I roll from dad’s Kennington to mum’s Fulham
My battle is there.
My genes predictably fighting
Over whoever or whaetver I am.
But the rules don’t apply to me.
I go everywhere
Right on the edge
Of Occam’s delicate razor.
All books, all music, all love, all places
I have tried all of them.
I obviously should be dead
With the risks and rides
Margins so, so fine.
But I never thought the rules applied to me.
My life and soul
Were unique, everything went to brain
Stronger than organs
As for liver and lungs
I’ve kicked the shit out of them
For 53 years.
Because the rules never applied to me.
But now, right now, peaking in life,
Accepting that the rules MIGHT apply to me
I step back
That even with that admission,
The rules don’t apply to me.