Page the Second


A fronte praecipitium a tergo lupi. (In front of you, a precipice. Behind you, wolves.)

Saturday, April 25, 2015

Slouchy Pants--the Poem

This is an ABCB poem I concocted yesterday after seeing what I call a clown on the street with his pants down around his knees:

You, the ridiculous boy in the pants
Which dip inexplicably under your rear
What kind of message are you trying to leave
With that image of dots on my retinas sear'd?

Think beyond now when you glare at the world
Sometime in the future your children will see
A boy standing there with his pants hanging down
With no clue what he actually meant it to be

They'll look at each other, shrug shoulders and laugh
At the strange way their father has chosen with care
His perfectly fitting and normal blue jeans
Now showcase his red polka dot underwear

I see you when crossing the street every day
It's hilarious to watch you endeavour to run 
You clutching your pants while they're tumbling down
And all I can think is it's probably fun

Your father is calling his son a big fool
Your mother is rolling her eyes up above
The sister you teased is now laughing at you
But worse there's the girl that you've chosen to love

She'll be so delighted she'll probably scream
Imagine the photos in your wedding book
The girl in her bride gown so gorgeous and white
All your in-laws and outlaws are taking a look

You're wearing your tux with the pants hanging down
It's there on the pages forever to see
Those ridiculous underpants still peeking out
I'd pull up my pants were it all up to me.
© 2015 by H. Linn Murphy

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