To Brother Domino
The money ran out, and I had to leave
Two mildewed macaws to my nieces
It seemed that I had failed to achieve
The rebirth of most of their pieces
Time has run out, and I hate to stay
Here, leeching on your kindness
Eating up your groceries every day
My debt ever grows in behindness
The booze is gone, now I really must go
(And by "go", you know what I mean)
Yet I lie about, so then, ergo--
The smell tells the tale, sight unseen
But bad pennies like me are near-sure to come back
You can bet the rent money on that
But the odds are so slack, and this place such a shack
That I bow out--so, here you go--splat!
| Contributors: | dok, Roland, N, Kansas Sam, F, Anon.. |
| Poem finished: | 18th September 2003. |