November
2006
prognosticatoralligator
Beware when you pay your fare
Of prognosticators
And the other alligators,
I’m an alligator, baby,
I’m snapping at your thighs -
I miss you, baby, every time,
If I ever get my head
Out of the oven,
I’ll grab you, sweetness,
Throw you down a mineshaft
With a life-raft
Filled with grenades,
I’ll throw that after you,
Pomegranate baby -
But the prognosticators,
Turncoat alligators,
They say none of that
Will be so,
But if I slit their eyes
And I screw their thumbs,
They’ll say it’s so,
So what I say comes
And what I say goes -
You’ll never beware
And you’ll pay your fare,
It’s not devil may care,
It’s I care and if I
Fill my lungs,
Just any old gasp,
We can talk in tongues,
But that can’t last
When I’m passing -
Your hubris will tell you
That I can still smell you
In the exponential
Nostril death,
And it’s true,
I would smell you
With my last breath
But I’m alive,
Else I’d never tell you
And the alligators
Are no prognosticators,
They’re dinosaur rejects,
Long outdated.
4 Responses to “prognosticatoralligator”
I do miss you, but not with grenades. I wouldn’t be so discourteous as to throw grenades at you, my dearest Emily. If I were obliged to throw grenades at you, though, I’d be sure to miss. In that sense it applies. Oh, I wouldn’t throw you down a mineshaft either. Who does that these days anyway? I wouldn’t do the other mean things either. Silly stuff, poetry. The more oblique the better, I suppose. I have much to learn. This is a bit like myspace, doncha think?
Dear Jack (and Emily)
I thought Ishould let you know that I very much liked that Male, 20 poem. Mainly because it might embarass you all to know I read this site (cue older person laughter here). Ha ha. BUT ALSO because it’s good. Get him to sort out the links though because they’re a bit rubbish. You’d never get away with this in Local Government. So don’t even think about applying. Pensionably yrs
Tom’s mam xxx
I almost left a comment last week but it was a bit too much about me.