Saturday, August 04, 2007

Pointless poetry exercise #3

'Kay, I'm going to admit defeat on this one. It's one of those opening lines that drives me towards wanting to investigate what that "whatever" is, and frankly I don't care what it is anymore. Hence I've had to resort to a fuckyu sequence:
Whatever
you've come here to get,
we sold it!

We wanted
to keep it aside for you,
but you died -

we read it
in the newspapers, you know.
Did it hurt

when you pulled
the trigger? And now you're here
to collect

with a hole
in your skull and a bullet
incisor.

There's no need
to swear at us like that, sir!
Whatever

it was that
you wanted us to keep safe
has been sold.

You could have
left us instructions, clues on
what to do

with the goods
in the tragic event of
your demise.

By the way,
what was it that you kept safe
in your box?

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