Dear Mr. Robin,
The following comments are in response to your opinion in the February 3rd edition of the Suburbanite.
I have gut feelings.
Somewhere near my spleen.
Like most gut feelings
They don’t equal what I mean.
I have gut feelings
That leave me in despair
For in my job as Editor
I have opinions I must air.
I’m not qualified to speak
Of barracks, wars and gays.
But I try my best to speak
If in rather schizo ways.
I’m trying to ignore my guts
But I can’t stay in my head.
I fear I may be going nuts
Losing readers is what I dread.
If gays fought with Washington
And rights are free to all,
Why then are my intestines
So knotted in a ball?
Oh to be born in ‘60
And not in ‘59
My guts would be less twisty,
My mental life sublime.