No hands land

There’s a place on the back of your body

It’s that space on your back that gets itchy,

That place you cannot reach,

That place that makes you get bitchy,

Where your right hand, bent around from below,

Can’t reach the other from across your head while you stand.

Where the itching always finds its way

I call it No Hands Land.

It’s that place where you ask your partner

Darling please, can you please scratch my back

Up a bit, across and now down, now across to the middle

And always they’re completely off track.

It’s as though the itches got together

It’s as though they’ve had this thing planned

To find their way to the most difficult place

I call it No Hands Land.

Copyright © 2017 Grant Fenton – All Rights Reserved