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Curse of Miscalculation Dk
he was not dumb
but he struck his thumb
now he was dumb-struck
and screamed jolly good
his hand in plaster
and bad luck his master
he could not drive his truck
to bide his time
he drank some wine
set out to repair the computer
but there had been a looter
and thus without google
he stroked his poodle
who was so confused
that the other hand got contused
and he took comfort in a tequila shooter
but he spilled the glass
what a dumb buttock
I am too fast
and he was aghast
for the drink had surpassed
a spill somehow miscast
he continued with gin tonic
until he got moronic
though he thought of it as hedonic
the words began to mumble
and he came to tumble
crashed into the lorry
but not one to worry
he kicked at the wrench
in which his cast got entrenched
when he blew a curse
about flipping and worse
the engine got running
which was rather stunning
now it was holy ablutions
until one more revolution
his sleeve got twisted
his spectacles misted
he was sucked into the airbag
still holding a fag
and the hot air combusted
those things can’t be trusted
almost running out of booze
he had nothing to lose
got the last bit of brandy
which was rather handy
but the liquor was so foul
that he started to howl
what a caboodle and stunt
he shouted Immanuel Kant
and while critiquing pure reason
he committed automobile treason
booted the old banger
which with a clangour
took to free wheeling
while he was keeling
alcohol on his breath
and quite close to death
his wife would be home soon
not much over the moon
and since he was not covered in glory
he needed a story
but quite on the brink
he wanted more drink
the emergency supply
he had wanted to buy
once the vehicle for renovation
was still at the gasoline station
where the HGV would be in elation
because it was downhill
it had needed a fill
so he sniffed a bit of petrol
and went back into confident control
because fumes are so healthy
and he always stealthy
when his dearest arrived
he quickly contrived
that he tried to fix the old fridge
she could be such a madame
would just not cool down
and he ran out of town
outcast and homeless
he smiled at the bonus
of needing no more car
with his missus so far
but she found him no doubt
and gave him a clout
started to throttle
and threw an empty bottle
for it appeared that his biggest sin
had been not to use the recycling bin
the moral of the narration
is one of frustration
that he had failed the fender
when on this long bender
and wives are mysterious
in situations so serious
13th August 2021
Copyright ©
Kai Michael Neumann
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