Life plays his tricks and ever taunts me to adapt;
His latest lark is cruel and cuts me deep :
I cannot go to bed until the dog has crapp’d.
See how this wretched quadruped has me entrapped,
Pegged to his pitiless peristaltic creep;
Life plays his tricks and ever taunts me to adapt.
That I of daily regimen so shrewdly mapp’d
To guarantee myself eight hours sleep
Now cannot go to bed until the dog has crapp’d
Seems joke so tasteless, raw, so bleak that I am apt
To lose count of my blessings. Angels, weep!
Life plays his tricks and ever taunts me to adapt.
Wherefore I nightly trudge the darkling way snow-capp’d
‘Til hound has cast his smelly little heap :
I cannot go to bed until the dog has crapp’d.
Oh Life, whose twists, surprises long held me enrapt,
Enjoy your humour’s melancholy reap;
Go play your tricks and ever taunt me to adapt :
I cannot go to bed until the dog has crapp’d.
-
Author:
pWc (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: July 23rd, 2024 11:02
- Category: Humor
- Views: 19
Offline)
Comments3
Could be (I say 'could be') funniest villanelle on record.
Do hang in here at MPS. It's a good site (apart from a few minor technical eccentricities), interactive and worth the effort.
Thanks, Doggerel. I will hang in. Paul
Great - 'see you around. Dave
At least it's regular.
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