Epistle to Mensa

Wanting to be a member of no club that'll have me—

If you will have me, the worse for you,
but you don’t want me in your club, believe me.

The logic of club membership's funny.
If I don’t join the club, who
will, wanting to be a member of no club that'll have me.

I’m starting to see why
you didn’t let me in when I first sued
for admittance. “You don’t want me in your club, believe me,”

was how I started my
elevator speech, making it all the easier for you
to blackball me and be no club that’d have me.

(But baby, you’re gonna be the one that saves me!—
my baby refuses to join the club too,
but I’m sure’s hell happy we're in our club, believe me!)

I’m not in your club and I never will be!
I’m sure it comes as no shock to you
that I want to be a member of no club that'll have me.
You don’t want me in your club, believe me.