John Thorkild Ellison
John Thorkild Ellison Poems
Comments about John Thorkild Ellison
Poetry Can Damage Your Health
The day my doctor died of smoking
I bought myself a fat cigar -
I realised he must be joking,
His funeral was so bizarre:
A dwarf in multi-coloured clothing
Sang louder than the parish choir
And though my heart was full of loathing
I leapt upon the funeral pyre.
I'd often longed for such a roasting
And knew it was my friend's desire,
I shouted out 'We'll all be toasting
In Hell's incandescent fire! '
Don't be discouraged by this story,
Smoking cigarettes is fine,
Inhale them on your days of glory
And drink your fill of rich, red ...
You will not find them here, or anywhere perhaps,
But every now and then there is a hint
Of empty streets,
And down past alleyways and hidden squares
The tall, dry rooms of our illicit love.