I rise at nine, or ten, or when|
I have to pee or get a yen
to stuff my face a while but then
the busy world makes such a din
I draw the blind and hit the sack
ambition left, and won't be back.
There's not much more I care to see
the turmoil's not impressing me
just go your way and let me be
forget the news that's on TV.
Oh, don't you sweat, I'll not get fired
it's been a spell since I retired.
Conniving villains, hand in glove--
buttugly maidens seeking love--
loud cars below and jets above--
the yapping cur and hooting dove--
the world zips on at fearful pace.
I pull the quilt up o'er my face.
The dog comes in, all hail his nibs
the gaunt cat snuggles to my ribs
some blonde newsgal is squealing fibs
on pure ennui I got the dibs.
I'll snooze forever. Then a chill
comes crashing down. Someday I will.
Lacharta--Iambic tetrameter, aaaabb, ccccdd, eeeeff and so forth.
"Wha, ol' cuzzin' Red wu'n't holler sooey effen uh hawg wuz eatin' his foot."