Wholy Moley Poem by Ted Sheridan

Wholy Moley

Rating: 5.0


I have a hole in the top of my head where something is living
It has formed a little skin covered hut under my hair
I wash it everyday and handing it a towel it dries itself
It gets angry when I poke at it and it throbs until I leave it alone
It also likes to read
Today it was reading what I wrote yesterday
It gets mad when I mention its existence
Because it is in denial
It believes I am a part of it
It tells me what it is thinking
But I don’t care
I just rub some antibiotic on it and self medicate
With some beer or some rum
It doesn’t drink or smoke
It just feeds off of me
Sucking blood from my body and creating infectious examples
Of what happens to people when they get old
I’m thinking about operating on it
Amputating its desire to create a social welfare system
Of which I want no part
It demanded an entitlement and a larger allowance
I tried to teach it self reliance
But it believes me to be expendable
It voted for the Communist Party in the last election
I’m a tried and true Capitalist and I cancelled out its vote
It threatened to revolt
It stayed up all night playing the Beatles “White Album”
I gave into its demands but later
I started to apply some pressure on it
When I squeezed it and popped its core
It bled for ten minutes….pink puss
Then it dialed 911 and pressed charges against me
For assault
The verdict ended in a hung jury
They didn’t believe either one of our stories
Another “What came first” situation
Me or the egg on my head
Time for another O.J. and vodka

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Ivan Donn Carswell 25 November 2007

This the poem which defines where Ted starts and the 'creep' ends? I don't believe either either! To think, life started a mole on my bottom... Rgds, Ivan

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Dee Daffodil 25 November 2007

LOL! ! ! ! Obviously I've had just enough Merlot for this all to make sense to me! ! ! LOL I hope you manage to keep the little creep in a jar or somethin! ! ! LOL Hugs, Dee

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Then it dialed 911 and pressed charges against me For assault The verdict ended in a hung jury They didn’t believe either one of our stories Another “What came first” situation Me or the egg on my head A purffect indirect situation where the kettle calls the poet black..

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