R. K. Hart (Australia)
He stumbles from here to there,
Sometimes hitting the floor and others landing in a chair.
Sometimes he's a rock of a male,
And others he's just shale.
He made a cake and apologized because it was moist,
'Did you turn the oven on', upon his petard he was hoist.
The oven, 'how was I to know, ' he thought, going pale,
After all he's just a mere male.
She sent him pizza to buy with coupons in hand,
Coupons she gave him to use them, a thought built on sand.
After all, he had the cash to cover so why would she rail,
How was he to know after all he's just a mere male.
At lunch, brother and he had received the wrong meal,
Changing the seating fixed the deal.
How was he to know you would exchange the plate?
To be the mere male is his fate.
He thought he'd cook a breakfast of eggs,
So he asked, looking at the dregs.
When cooking do you scramble before or after?
Mere male first heard silence then belly laughter.
So have pity on the one called man,
For he cannot do those things you can.
He does his best with the knowledge he has,
Mere male might even remember the seat on the lav.
Comments about this poem (Mere Male by R. K. Hart )
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