Death Of A Shriner

“I’m in trouble.” So she says.
She doesn’t have to wear a fez
And act like she can drive this toy.
I park the car atop a boy
Who ran onto the route, get out
And, standing proud and tall, I shout,
“Missy, I don’t give a–” Wham!
I die before I get to “damn.”
The troubled young distraction sighs
And turns away. To my surprise
I watch her do this. I’ve expired,
Yet I’m still okay! Just tired.
Wish I could have lost the hat,
But heaven doesn’t work like that.
The elephant that mowed me down
Has subsequently crushed a clown
So loneliness won’t be my curse,
Just slapstick. Hell. It could be worse.


About Michael

Silliness is good
This entry was posted in poetry and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s