Home » Poems » Caren Krutsinger » If a Poet Had Nine Lives

If a Poet Had Nine Lives

Poets were given nine lives a year ago
During the pandemic. Didn’t you know?
I used my first life in January, when I fell in the snow.
Lost until my soul had left. Oh, what woe!

Luckily, life number two took me through Valentine’s Day.
I had Zoom meetings to attend, and Google Meets along the way.
I got zapped by electricity, for my machines were ungrounded.
Life number two was gone; your disbeliefs unfounded.

Life Number three was happy and excited, cheerful and gray.
She kept me safe and enthusiastic every day.
We were besties for a month, maybe two.
But then I was run over by an elephant name of Blue. 

I was determined to be careful with life number four.
I drove rather carefully from my home to the store.
I did not take any risks, I wore a mask on my face.
The fact that a wolf got me was a huge disgrace.

Life Number Five was overbearing and crude.
She told me what to do, commanded, and she was rude.
I did not mind losing her, the day she went away.
I have to admit, I was not one second gray.

Life Number Six came along on Memorial Day.
She decorated graves with me, and we made them all gay.
We danced and strutted until I accidentally fell into an open grave.
Life Number Six is gone now, but often her I still crave.

Life Number Seven came with warnings of danger of red.
I nicknamed him Samuel, but he asked me to rename him Fred.
I was getting scared now, because I am losing lives fast.
He told me not to worry, to stop dwelling on all my lives past.

I am proud of myself for I only have two lives left.
If I lost number seven, I would feel depressed and bereft.
I am choking on this sandwich loaded with Iowa Ham.
Oh, no, here is Life number Eight. Damn! Damn! Damn!

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