Wednesday, February 13, 2008

Line Up Of Three

I’ve narrowed the search to three suspects
in the crime of my disappearing poems.

My stumble fat-fingers that press
two or more keys more often than one,
refusing to follow to the letter
all instructions from the brain.

Murphy, our Australian Sheppard
that has his own poem, is the least likely:
he’s the number one pet,
the only time he touches the keyboard
is to remind me of his daily date with his ladies
on their sniff, walk, and pee, and
their sniff, walk and ______.

Now, to the feline of “bitch” fame.
She always wears black, and
mischievousily roams the house.
I’ve interrogated her thoroughly, but
she refused to confess with a kiss-my-ass hiss!!

8 comments:

sage said...

Blame the cat, or since you say she's possessed, blame it on the Devil... funny poem.

J. Andrew Lockhart said...

you can find a poem in anything! :)

Margie said...

HaHa!
I just knew you would write a poem about the ones that disappeared.
Loved it, Pat!

Margie

dsnake1 said...

:D

you can write on anything, Pat. :)

polona said...

that's a great take on what happened... love it!

Anonymous said...

You truly are an original!

Elena Horowitz-Brookes said...

I'm betting on the feline. I never trust mine, as they insist on walking across my keyboard often. Plus they are the ones who could best keep a secret.

Love this who done it poem, Pat. Maybe you won't figure it out but at least you wrote something wonderful out of it.

Thank you!

Bill said...

Anyway, Pat, don't let anything happen to these. (But be careful not to offend that cat.)