Jan Hansen | + Follow Poet |
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man and his dog

Man and his dog

He awoke under the bed, and 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 partied with his teddy bear
Being lonely since his dog died
Looking out of the window, he saw many cars, and they had
No drivers and some had open doors as if abandoned in haste,
But what had happened?
In a bakery/café, he had a sandwich of cheese and tomatoes,
He made it himself since the lady who owned it
The café 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 that 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 once had dined,
He made and made himself a hamburger with hot fries
drunk on the most expensive red wine possible.
The dog that had growled at him looked at him through the window,
wagging 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, showering, and wearing 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 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 down under the bed
But before falling into Nirvana's arms, he got up again
Someone had to feed the dog.

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