Koala, Koala, I see you there
you are a marsupial you are not a bear.
You live in a tree carry your young in a pouch.  
Eat the eucalyptus unlike the potatoe on the couch

Koala, Koala, you see me
looking up at you in your eucalyptus tree
A Bear is not a Koala, and a Koala, is not a Bear.
I thought I would make people so very much aware

Koala, Koala you just eat leaves.
A Bear is an omnivore and eats what it sees 
The Bear needs sleep and is going to be late.
As it settles down to hibernate.

Koala, Koala, I have held you so
like a baby in my arms
I daren't let you go.
Koala, Koala, up in your tree
My pictures I Still have of you and of me.

You stand before the cutting board,
Excited, eyes wide
Juices flowing in your mouth
and in the tender meat.
Oh, my Sweet,
Turn your hunger on me !
Devour me too !

You stand before the cutting board,
excited appetite
juices flowing in your mouth
and in the tender meat.
Hungry man, do turn your gaze
Devour me too !

The coldness of my unleashed disinhibitions have gracefully succumbed to the wisdom of cosmological forces, despite my ravenous salivations for all that is vehemently forbidden.
As I bark inside the relief of this solitary pound of articulated and socialised liberty, like an expression of abstract artistry within an ethical mudslide; I continue to teeter upon geographical tightropes which span unforgiving terrains across the ancient divides of propriety, where the baron plains of deuterocanonical origin are populated by restless spirits with gnashing teeth.
So, if they could ever be personified, I could easily butcher a myriad of depravities which tangibly characterise my inner Astarte and Ishtar demons – although, such an event would have to occur after we have engaged in a myriad of abominations where raunchy and indulgent copulations shamefully expose our brazen wantonness to animalistic inclinations.
Never offer to tie me down.
Restriction diametrically opposes my socially skilled yet nomadic being, as it sojourns across a psychedelic array of vibrant gardens, and weaves through present pathways which are timeless in their being.
It just is.
That is the essence of ontology.
Can we ever effectively contemplate the philosophies of predetermination and predestination?
As I am not dichotomous in my thinking, there is a legitimate place for being an omnivore within the walls of our societal fabric.
Although I radically accept that of which I do not approve, the psychology of ambivalence has led me to raise questions around the validity of horticulture.
My clock has melted down the flamboyance of those multicolored mountainsides of being and nothingness.

Common courtesy is a dinosaur
be it a vegetarian or an omnivore,
common courtesy is a dinosaur
extinct and forgotten,
never to live on Pangea ever again