Perpetual Nestled Teacups
It's not my cup of tea
Or even my piece of toast
Still and all I love to think,
That gravy is the finer drink
That makes me dance with glee
The wrong side of the bed
I'm standing on my head,
Still and all I love to see
Your alabaster effigy
It's not the time of day,
Nor yet my part in life
Still and all I love to watch
Your alabaster wife
It's not that I'm in love,
For my thoughts are far above
From her plinth I turn my gaze
towards your now ebony wife.
I see now through my haze.
Through eyes bedimmed by rheum
That truth was really far from clear
and I am truly crazed!
And etched about with gloom
I glance about the room
Determined not to faint
She comes to me with sissors raised
And quite the bloody picture paints!
Enough! Enough! I cry in pain
Before my sternum splinters!
I'll just inject this in my vein
And freeze a thousand winters
...and now I sip my tea
Strew rushes on the floor
The rats waltz in and strip my fin,
And taunt my dead macaw
Oh joy! This IS my piece of toast!
And this, my missing tooth!
My eyes have cleared, I've trimmed my beard
And I've regained my youth!
It's not my cup of tea
but still and all I say,
Was it all real, or was it false?
Won't know till my dying day.
Contributors: | Linda, P, Stacy, Roland, TG, KD, Bop, Stokely, Zsa, Kent, Joe Papp. |
Poem finished: | 10th March 1997. |