Don'T Look For Fleas On Me

DON'T LOOK FOR FLEAS ON ME Poet’s life is not at all easy. Nobody seems to need his poetry. For some people he is cheesy – An ape fallen from a tree. I decided not to be a poet. «Attaboy, better save your nerves! » Said my wife when I told her that. I gave her the respect she deserves. I realized: all women are bit..es, Sitting like worms in their niches. I do not want anyone's pity, I must do something on this earth. It has to be something pretty And something that really has worth. The winter turned me into a wreck. I must find a path or lose, Or put the rope around my neck. But it’s hard to sing with a noose. It’s the winter’s fatigue to blame. Nightingales start sing in spring. I haven’t that talent, nor a name. But roosters also can well sing. Nightingale as the singer is best. I’m the loser, let it be. I don’t want to sit in my nest. Do not look for fleas on me. 07.05.2005, February 2019