The Crooked Mile
And so he’s at it again
He’s on another bender
He’s thinking about giving in
But his liver won’t surrender
So he continues to swallow them down
As everyone cheers him on
He’s like a king, with no throne or crown
Just the barstool he’s perched upon
Around 3 a.m., he bids goodnight
With nothing more than a smile
Then he vomits under a streetlight
And chooses to wander around for a while
He stumbles around for an hour or three
Walking a crooked mile
Until he decides to climb up a tree
As if, in this state, he’s versatile
After climbing for a while, he looks around
How in the world did he climb this high?
He loses his grip, and plummets to the ground
While he flaps both his arms, trying to fly
He hits the dirt, and gets to his feet
Now he just wants to go home
The thought of his bed seems oh so sweet
And so he chooses to no longer roam
In no time it seems, he makes it to his house
He can’t wait to go inside
He scurries to the door, as quick as a mouse
Excited for the warmth his house will provide
He reaches into his pocket with a drunken grace
It was quite a sight for the eyes to see
But you should have seen the look on his face
When he realized he’d lost his house key
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Quite enjoyable... If you like humourous poems, I have to ask whether you've ever stumbled across Robert Service's "The Cremation of Sam McGee?" It's definitely worth a look if you haven't.
ReplyDeleteIt's a little lengthy, so grab a beverage, get comfy and prepare to savour it.
Just read it. It was pretty funny, got a chuckle out of me by the end. Definitely shorter than I expected though, I'd made some hot chocolate, expecting a length similar to "The Goblin Market." Thankfully it wasn't, considering the time!
ReplyDelete