The Lame Poem Here, Mates! Poem by Jonathan Howard

There once was a man from Berlin,
He used to get drunk in the inn,
Every day till midnight,
Lest he’d sense there was light,
And he never thought it was a sin.

Man! That German was almost insane,
Every night he was drunk to the vein!
“Please, just help him, alright?
Oh, just please! ” – every night,
Every night – said the barman in vain.

May he live and be sober once more
He’d be able to walk – not on four,
Else we’d feel he’s gone
“Rest in peace”, and we’d mourn,
(‘End this lim’rick, or you’d be so sore! ’)

May his soul be forever serene!
And in this way our conscience be clean,
Till we help him, “but how? ”
“End his misery, now! ”
So why won’t we be, just once, mean?

(Winter 2004-2005.)