Old Bones

 

 

Old bones

A skeleton from the closet, jumped out,

Staggered around, by the edge of the bed,

And, conjuring cans and bottles about,

He sang me an ode, lamenting the dead:

Buried memories, long since forgotten,

Paralytic phantoms, ghosts from the past;

Tales drink related, shameful and rotten,

I heard, as I froze and silently gasped,

And when he’d finished his terrible song,

(The lyrics of which I’ll not tell a soul),

With skeletal hands, incredibly strong,

He tugged and twisted, and threw off his skull,

And into my lap that damaged skull fell;

Alas, alcoholic; I knew him well.