Master, I am a stranger to you,
but will you hear my confession?
I am a faceless man
who lives in the backyard
of your house.
I share your table
so heavily heaped with
bread, meat and fruit
it huffs like a horse
drawing a cart.
As the rich man's to Lazarus,
the crumbs are swept to my lap
by my Lizzi
'Sweetie! ea and be satisfied now,
Tomorrow we shall be gone.'
So nightly I tun the gauntlet,
wrestle with your mastiff, Caesar,
for the bone pregnant with meat
and wash it own with Pussy's milk.
I am the nocturnal animal
that steals through the fenced lair
to meet my mate,
and flees at the break of dawn
before the hunter and the hounds
run me to ground.
de
Leave a comment behind