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Death Wish

"Our good best boy, don't you forget."
Father shook, his face was wet.
His hand thumped hard my shoulder blade,
My thoughts "Old bastards gone insane."
Ma held me close to moth balled dress,
"With you close by we were god blessed."
Wiped a tear, applied the rouge,
"What's the matter with her?" I mused.
Brothers pinch faced by the door,
aunts and uncles all deplored.
Grandma stood to sing a psalm
"Free from trouble, free from harm."
They dragged me shouting, "Save his soul,"
to a wooden box five feet tall.
Pinned me in, nailed down the lid,
what crime committed that I must be hid?
They'll have to come back soon for me,
life down here's insanitary.
If a joke it's gone to far,
can't help it if I wrecked the car.

17 Nov 07

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bit of a messy wreck
 — poetbill

but still a fun one from Larry the breaks don't work Lark
 — poetbill

Hi Poetbill

You can say that again. Its a wonder they ever found him,

Larry from the back of a Skoda Lark
 — larrylark

Yes my friend,

Its the funny ones that break you up

Larry breaking wind Lark
 — larrylark

larry is demented
 — unknown

That's what you think - have you ever looked in the mirror?

This is a great poem a macabre twist in the slick pretence that is supposed to be family life - oh and the breaks do work l'il quacker.
 — unknown


nice twist at the end, i enjoyed how it flowed as well. possibly a comma may be needed in the middle of line 15? but i may be mistaken, i always skipped grammar class.
 — raskolniikov

Dear Unknown

Why don't you quit stating the obvious and go for something original. Everyone knows I'm madder than a pond full of ducks.

Larry quackers Lark
 — larrylark

Hi raskolniikov

Thanks for the spot and thanks for reading,

 — larrylark

Hi unknown

Families eh, aren't they the curse of family life.

Larry bound in chains Lark
 — larrylark

guess it was the brakes that failed
 — poetbill

Not at all poetbill

You see the poor guy had a thing about ducks, their shiny beaks, fluffy down, webbing on their feet, the way they quack, like mocking laughter and how their wings whistle in the air when they fly. I forgot to mention it in the poem but he worked on a duck farm and changed his name by deed poll to Donald. He had all ninety books of the complete duck encyclopedia and used to waddle and flap his arms when he walked. He also had skin grafted on between his toes. So one day when he was travelling at 100 MPH in a 30 mile limit and mummy duck stepped onto the zebra crossing with her nine ducklings rather than run them over he swerved and demolished the local porn shop dying with a dildo prising open his mouth to help him breathe. Worra hero

Larry tardy feathers Lark
 — larrylark

He was a true American hero.  Quacks to him.
 — poetbill

Hi Poetbill

Actually he lived in Accrington.

Larry daffy Lark
 — larrylark