“CONNIVING MALARKEY, REVISITED.” a poem October 12, 2019 (Saturday)

“CONNIVING MALARKEY, REVISITED.” a poem October 12, 2019 (Saturday)

“So, my friend,” I said to my friend, (pretty long pause)

“I guess (pause) notUntilYou’reOn’YourDeathBed,’ then, maybe, you’ll look up at me,

And say: ‘DANG, YOU WERE RIGHT; WHY DID I EVER DISAGREE,

WITH YOU, WHEN YOU SAID, ‘Anything anyone might write or say,

IS WORTH NO MORE THAN A PILE OF DUNG.’ WHY DIDN’T I JUST ‘OK,’

YOUR ASSESSMENT OF THE SITUATION & ADMIT NO ONE KNOWS,

NOTHING, Baby,

NOTHING. NOT EVEN WHAT THE CRUD IS IN BETWEEN THEIR TOES?”

“Well,” I said to Tomius, “actually you did quite right, My Friend,

For, you didn’t even believe me, and I’m fullO’Shit too until (some) the (very) end?”

Until The End of Time, good friends, no one knows a FLIP;

People are everSpeculating, conningOneAnother withTheBook & too, computer chip,

Trying to CON Vince everyone that what they say makes sense,

When we are ALL so full of it, and no one seems to be on The Fence,

About NOTHING ’cause everyone’s got it figured out,

And it seems it’s not until they are lying on their death bed that they realize THAT;

(pause) Then, they pout: (pause)

“How was I to KNOW that ‘J,’ he is IN TOUCH, WITH SOME TRUTH,

‘Cause he is such an ANGRY FOOL; he’s nasty and uncouth?

HE TRIED TO TALK SOME SENSE TO ME, but DANG, I was ASLEEP;

My ears were stopped, my mind was locked.”

Moral: A (TRULY) BLIND MAN CAN NEVER WEEP.

fin ♥

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