Where’s the paid watcher of my Jerry can
And who the hell just bounded it off,
My face now a hotter frying pan,
Never to learn how to absorb a bluff?
Lame excuses I don’t fail a wheel chair
And their givers try to not spare:
These days’ lies changed like robes
By lips doubly sure no listener probes...
Because kerosene is involved
And its worries not easily solved...
Tales in powder soaked to veil their rashes,
No recalls of Dust to Dust, Ashes to Ashes…
Should I forget haven woken up at 4:00 AM
For a heart gladdening position in a snaky queue
And the pains taken to phone a Clem
For my Jerrycan to be preceded by just a few
Stiff-necked, refusing a morning bath
After picking the consequences from Simple Math?
Categories:
jerrycan, age, cry, desire, engagement,
Form: Rhyme