Let My Sleeping Friends Die

The Xmas racket’s already started in my local supermarket but be of good cheer, it’s almost the end of another year, and the world’s still here. Time permitting, I may fit in another post before the end of December.

xmas-lifeThe piece below came from playing around with “Let sleeping dogs lie”.

Let My Sleeping Friends Die

Death’s a disciple of mine
He follows me around
all fake smiles
and “pleased to see you agains.”
Lord, save us!
I nearly threw up all over my corpse
lying battered and broken
but made up just fine
for mourners to cry over
then enjoy my fine wine.
still, from where I sit now the beer is unreal
and nobody’s pale or wearing a mask
to hide what they think of me
a senseless task
and to those I hear weeping and wondering why
sometimes it’s just better to let sleeping friends die.

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And this little ditty’s derived from a cluster on the life and times of HG Wells. The format is modeled after a poem by e e Cummings, called “Buffalo Bill’s” – https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-and-poets/poems/detail/47244
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