Ted Sheridan Poems

Note: “I don’t call myself a poet, because I don’t like that word. I call myself a trapeze artist.” —Bob Dylan
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Last night I fixed myself
a much needed drink
an 'adult beverage'
with two ice cubes
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You do not
confuse me
you only confound
the issues.
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She places a strategic
well placed kiss
on the back of my neck
injecting me with
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The end was near___
His dying words were being silenced
by a Fascist nurse
who was always pulling the plug on him....
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With my eyes
affixed on her shapely body
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Sitting with his back to the wall
bushy tail took a break from it all
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Caged by a love we could have prevented
We imprisoned ourselves with each others limitations
Our love that had been put in motion
By both a place and time
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I was called by the name of both a snake and a rat
I was sent packing into the deep dark underworld
Where the only light to be seen was unobtainable
I was a liar who had been lied to since infancy
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There comes a time in every good dogs life
When he must decide to bite before he is bitten
Beware that day has come for me
Chained by the tax collar placed around my neck
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