Saturday, 11 September 2010


From the shop I got an octopus
To keep my boy at bay
For I simply don’t have arms enough
To entertain his day,

You see he’s wandering around as if
He has the right to walk,
And testing my authority
With homemade tomahawks.

And his mind is quickly firing,
His legs propelling more,
And feeding him is tiring
Because he can’t be caught:

He’s in the corners, in the cracks;
He’s climbing up the walls,
And every time I turn my back
He’s breaking protocols.

And when I get my hands on him
He flashes me those eyes
That always are employed to win
A moment of reprise,

And I’m reduced to ripping out
The rest of my gray hair
And racked by waves of gripping doubt
That leave me in despair.

But after sleeping peacefully
With words of love announced,
I wake and take it easily,
Until he starts to pounce.

No comments:

Post a Comment