Thursday, February 09, 2006

My Past Lives

When I was living in a bronze spittoon
I had no friends, although my cousin Zee
Would sometimes – rarely – have a drink with me
To celebrate, or drown our sorrows. Soon
Those visits ended, too: one afternoon
The postman's golden lab went on a spree
And bit my cousin just above the knee,
So Zee turned round and whacked me with a spoon.

Since then, although not injured, I was sore,
The incident left me afraid of knives,
I've gone through four bad jobs and three good wives,
And any mention of the Trojan War
Gives me conniptions. What is all this for?
I never was a soldier, in past lives.

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home