She never did like
my singing in the shower.
'Dry up! '
she'd shout from the kitchen
so I had to
give it up.
Took up
alpine yodeling in the shower
instead
but the divorce
put the dampners
on that
I was too sad to sing
and had become
a silent yodeler
Took up banjo playing
in the shower
until the strings got rusty
and the neighbours
snapped, dialed: 999.
Now all I do
in the shower...is...shower
come clean
go to bed alone
sing and yodel and banjo
to my heart's content
in my dreams
in my dreams
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem