Fire, Fire

FIRE, FIRE The house is burning round me, There’s no time to hang about. Just enough for me to get A few essentials out. First, up to the bathroom To collect my medications. To a lifelong hypochondriac, They’re vital preparations. Next, the photo albums; I just can’t let them burn. My life recorded through a lens, Through every twist and turn. The car is parked close to the house; I’m afraid it might explode. So I have to find the car keys, To move it down the road. My fire insurance policy Covers such a fate. I’d better take that with me, To prove it’s up to date. I have to take my cell phone; It’s full if information. A phone book and a Filofax, My life’s organisation. I’ve put my warmest coat on, Although the weather’s sunny. Well, my wallet’s in the pocket, Full of credit cards and money. And, lastly, my computer, To keep me in the loop, And make sure I can enter This poem in Poetry Soup.