The Back Story

Jill and Jack

were unskilled hikers,

were in fact

yuppie bikers,

got off track

ascending pike–

–near giant crack in mountainside…

Jack fell down and wounded pride…

couldn’t stop his giant slide–

–descending hill on bum,

he bit it,

cussing dust

as hard

he hit it,

beyond all pail

was spew he spit–

–it proved to be his epitaph…

as crown he wore was spiky hat…

and shifted from his brow to back…

piercing spine–

–of life he lost it

on curs’ry climb

passed farm—

he bought it,

no nurse nearby

to tally cost,

before applying tourniquet…

the only way to check the jets…

of blu’ish blood that Jackie bled–

–and now Jill’s

forced to tend the daisies,

left behind but when it’s rainy,

she declines because she’s lazy–

–and absents self for reasons Jillion

not least of which

is brand-new pillion.


©Karen Robiscoe

About Charron's Chatter

I bring to you an arrow, whole, Use it, or break it, But if you choose to take it --Know-- With it also, I will go. © Karen Robiscoe @1992

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