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1 August 2020

Chocolate George (Unwrapped)



Chocolate George
Was a pussy magnet
He’d had more tang
Than Frank Sinatra
He said it was nice, so nice
And it all came from a nice place
That it was no mere gesture
But the gift of awareness

He said the algorithms of affection
Played out naturally
With no need for ceremony
Or archaic ritual
And that they were as beautiful
As they were natural
He stressed that
He was not the message
But the messenger
And there was no device
Or calculation
Behind his success

 George had once been a pariah
An untouchable
He had a definite shape
But it was asymmetrical
He was composed of acute
And awkward angles
Ragged contours
And sharp edges
Cutting edges
He had always felt
At odds with nature
a square peg
In a universe of round holes.

He felt powerless
In his predicament
There was no panacea
No prescription
No discipline
Or philosophy
To ease his discomfort
There was not even a name
For whatever it was ailed him
There was no diagnosis
For his wayward geometry.

His was the difficult path
And he stumbled often
And sometimes he fell
But over the years
His angles were chipped away
And his edges were made smooth
Through collision and erosion
So that one day George awakened
To discover
That he was practically formless.

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