Jan Hansen Poet Blank verse

man and his do

Man and his dog

He awoke under the bed; it had been his birthday
drinking champagne, eating Danish pastry, and smoking Havana cigars
He walked into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and took out
a beer, which he thirstily drank while wondering why
Everything was so quiet
The maid had been in when he slept, and everything was in order. When did the guests leave, or had he been partying with his teddy bear, lonely since his dog died?
Looking out of the window, he saw many cars; they had
No drivers and some had open doors as abandoned in haste, but what had happened?
In a bakery/cafe, he had a sandwich of cheese and tomatoes, which he made himself since the lady who owned
The cafe was not there.
It dawned on him that he was alone in the world, everything
He didn't need to share his good fortune with anyone, except for the cur outside who ran away and barked when seeing him
He tried the Rolls-Royce that belonged to the mayor, yes
The ride was smooth, distracted by thoughts, he hit a lamp-post, but never mind, there were other cars around
At an expensive restaurant where he had once dined, he made himself a hamburger with hot fries
drunk with the most expensive red wine possible.
The dog that had growled at him looked at him through the window, wagging its tail; it knew he was the only one left to feed it
Months went by, and the window, his life was getting a bit onerous, just him
and the dog following him around, getting fat from his overfeeding.
He stopped shaving and showering, and wore the same pants
Since the day was endless anyway, why bother with personal hygiene when there was no pressure to conform
Deeply depressed, he jumped from the top-floor flat of
a tall building to end it all.
No such luck! He descended, slowly broke down, and cried freely as the dog was the only witness to his sadness.
Doomed to live forever, he lay under the bed.
But before falling into Nirvana's arms, he got up again; someone had to feed the dog.

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