Tonight's Poet Corner: Like A Chimney
Like A Chimney
by Belinda Roddie
Yes, sir. No, sir.
I told you so, sir.
There he sits, sticking two
cigars up his nose, sir.
One in each nostril,
that ossified fossil
lights up like a smoke stack,
clouded like a cataract.
Wore a cap today, sir.
Don't have cash to pay, sir.
He won't hand a penny over
'til he's dead and gray, sir.
I'd prefer a chimney
to the pleasure of his company.
He'll be burned to ash one night,
but we'll just have to wait and see.
by Belinda Roddie
Yes, sir. No, sir.
I told you so, sir.
There he sits, sticking two
cigars up his nose, sir.
One in each nostril,
that ossified fossil
lights up like a smoke stack,
clouded like a cataract.
Wore a cap today, sir.
Don't have cash to pay, sir.
He won't hand a penny over
'til he's dead and gray, sir.
I'd prefer a chimney
to the pleasure of his company.
He'll be burned to ash one night,
but we'll just have to wait and see.
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