Monday, February 02, 2009

The Curse of Verse (from Bad to Worse?)

and so coughs Monkey, “Deal me out!”
His cards collapse, his hand in doubt.
He leaves the room to smoke and pout.
And absently paces about ‘til toe is stubbed – “Christ God!” – his shout.

Eyes fill in peep holes all about
To witness Monkey’s dancing bout!

His Hostess screams, “Come in you lout!
You’ve blown my cool - I need the clout!
Count neighbors’ eyes – pressed glass to snout!
They breathe sausage and sauerkraut!
Return, sweet Monkey, don’t stay out!
You needn’t storm and stomp and pout.
You’re luck will change. I have no doubt!
I whisper now but soon I’ll shout!
Now stop meandering about!
My nerves are frayed! I’ll have a bout!
Hysteria! You brutish lout!
My standing here destroyed! No clout!”

…and so coughs, Monkey, wipes his snout, and thinks he smells the sauerkraut.

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