O, sad was I
To realize my mistake
Shortly after I fell into that churning vat of linguini dough
At the factory
And I was called before that great dark being
And brought to see that
To my eternal shame
I should have been burning incense
Made of purest platypus dung
And sitting in a bowl of earthworms
Consecrated by a dwarf with neckrings
And a bald head anointed with holy mustard
Whistling the sacred waltz
Rotating my thumbs counterclockwise
But I was a fool-
And now I’m damned to be cast into the wading pool of woe,
And suffer the torment of the six knitting needles
And two hot parsnips
Beset upon by hairy swimming spiders the size of hats
Hearken ye now unto my regrets lest you too suffer my fate:
If only I’d partaken of mentholated massage oils!
If only I’d been blessed by a man that lies with poodles!
If only I’d had one eyebrow and the opposite side of my moustache shaved off!
If only I had not eaten of the forbidden Cornish hen with also forbidden stuffing!
If only I’d wept salty tears upon a newborn owl!
And barked my shins intentionally on a low table
And made an irritating whining sound
When alone in the bathtub
But I was a fool
And am now naught but pain and parsnips
I entreat you,
If you have any pity
Pluck a nostril hair for me,
Or ignite a small vole
Posted on December 14, 2014, in Poems and Literary Peccadillos and tagged free verse is the least expensive kind, I can only afford free verse, my mistake, naught but pain and parsnips, religious poems. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.