Poet Skeletons
1 min readMar 6, 2019
Two skeletons appeared in a bookish wood,
And sorry I could not ride both
And be one jockey, long I stood
And stared one down as bored as wood
As it flashed me mossy overgrowth;
Then eyed the other, just as queer,
And having perhaps the better name
People had bandied a handful of years;
Though to speak truth the passing glare
Of time had worn them both about the same,
And both piles of bones equally lay
In library leaves few would again read.
Oh, I kept the first Mr. Bones for another day!
Yet knowing how B.A. leads on to M.A.,
I doubted I should ever feel the need.
I shan't be telling this to none
Many double negatives hence:
Two skeletons wooed me, and one—
I took for a short jaunt, not fun,
And it has made a rat's shit of difference.
