April Fool

With one foot on his

Creative cloud

The bank clerk could not

Find the poet’s account


He mumbled

Life’s complicated he


Feeling like a fool

Having mislead his

Electronic card.

His mind on art and on

A new venture

He has been invited


But he’s not yet sure


He has to write his own

Book first…

The poet said to Mrs IRA

To whom fellow E had

Ran back to

As the poet backed out

From E’s tight clutches

But mostly women and

Effeminate men throw

Such blistering tantrums

The poet mused…

A non-initiated writer still

There’s lots of work to be

Done by the lad himself.

Why don’t you illustrate

Your poetry book yourself?

The inner voice of reason


I will. The poet said and

Thought to do just but

Challenged by the uninitiated

Writer with the woolen cap.

I will do that with my ballad:

King of Ice.



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