An annuated Irishman with a spotty publication history trying to write one decent poem every couple of days for the rest of his miserable God-bedeviled life in the obviously contradictory hope that he will thereby find salvation.
Thursday, June 4, 2009
I could do it out the window I could do it with a knife
I could do it all alone Or I could take along my wife
The first would be told in whispers The second on the news:
“Man kills wife, children, dog & self -- He musta had the blues."