Flying Lemming Poems

I’ve planned the perfect murder
Faultless in every way
My alibi is watertight
I’m covered all that day
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January is too soon here
A damp and cold start to the year
February follows on
With snow and ice that’s seldom gone
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Maybe it’s a sign that I am getting old
But today I found that I really felt the cold
When I got in I started by turning on the heat
Then made myself some steaming chunky soup to eat
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The tourist laughed as he thought of the native that made a deal
And swapped an uncut diamond for a Rolex that wasn’t real
He took the diamond and sold it, gaining a pile of cash
And gambled and went to bars and frittered away his stash
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I think that I should exercise
Maybe a bit would be wise
The papers say we are all getting too large
A swim or jog or strain or run
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Why are we here
Asked old Ted
Scratching his head
Studying his beer
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I wake up at 6pm
Wash and dress and shave and then
Get in my car, to work I drive along
I’m working throughout the night
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I sense the figure behind the door
A chill runs down my Spine
I don’t think I can take much more
My nerves all start to climb
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I’ve never had the talent, of making life fit right
It’s always seemed a struggle, a battle or a fight
By the time I get the day straight it’s already turned night
And more deadlines have been missed
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I sit and wait, the pressure great
The tension in the air
And now I find, that in my mind
I’m turning to despair
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