Couch Wisdom with Dingo

'twas the morning of thanksgiving, when all through the house
not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
the dishes were strewn about without care,
in hopes that the cleaning fairy soon would be there;

i was nestled all snug in my bed,
while visions of @$%^@ danced in my head;
and the phone was turned off, and all the doors locked,
so finally i could settle down for a long winter's nap,

when out in the lot there arose such a clatter,
i sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
away to the window i stubbled bleary eyed,
tore down the curtain and threw up the blinds.

the sky was all grey and as bleak as ever
gave the dullness of reality to objects below,
when, what to my night-crusted eyes should appear,
but a man at the dumbster, and a friend at his side,

with little bags at thier sides, filled with cans and bottles,
i knew in a moment it must be the guys fisher has seen.
more rapid than eagles the set the pilage each sack,
and they yelled, and banged, and called eachother names;

"got one over here!" (Bang) "hey, get out of my bags!"
(Bang, Clang) "stupid fuck those are my bottles not yours!"
"no their not, they are mine. i got them three buildings down."
"ahhh, whatever, your senial. keep looking." (BANG!!!)

as dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
when they meet with an empty bag, throw it to the side,
so on and on this action ensued,
for quite some time, quite longer than i expected.

and then, in a twinkling, i heard one say.
"this one's dead. let's look in the other."
as i drew in my hand, and was turning around,
i noticed my door was unlocked to the outside.

i was dressed in just boxers, and not that much else,
and was wondering who had come to my home while i slumbered the night;
a bundle of thoughts flew through my head,
and i looked for a weapon to fend off attack.

i crept-- how quietly! my actions how comical!
my only protection, the marble ashtray!
that i spilled in my attempt to discourage a foe,
and the ashes and butts all on the table;

the thought of crying out tight in my teeth,
and relocking the door was the action i took;
i would have justice, whatever it cost
don't come in, unless you want to be throttled on the way out.

i was chubby and plump, and wielding a deadly ashtray,
and i laughed when i realized what i was doing, in spite of my possible thieves;
with a shout and opening all doors,
Soon gave me to know i had nothing to dread;

i spoke not a word, but went straight to the table,
and swept up the mess; then turned with a jerk,
and laying my hand aside of my nose,
gave an awful sneeze, and put down my former weapon;

i sprang to the window, remembering my wakeup call,
this time thinking that today of all days, maybe i could help.
but to my dismay, ere they were out of sight,
"happy thanksgiving to all, and to all-give thanks."

posted by dingo @ 11:40:00 AM