Saturday, April 18, 2009

The Price of Poetry

For want of a poem,
the dishes are neglected.

For want of clean dishes,
another meal is missed.

For want of a missed meal,
hunger drives me to wine.

For want of a bottle of wine,
I scour the house for money.

For want of money,
I decide to steal goods from you.

For want of salable goods,
I steal you Royal Doultons.

For want of your Royal Doultons,
you call the local police.

The police want a collar
and I am their man.

Because they want a man to accuse,
I am sent to jail.

Because I am sent to jail,
I want a poem with which to explain.

1 comment:

Aisha said...