Monday, September 19, 2011

COMPASSIONATE CONSERVATISM

The night was sad, the rain was blowing,
As I walked to my home alone;
My mind was rushing, overflowing
With thoughts about my leaving Joan.
My wife’s brain suffered hematoma
And now she’s lying in a coma.
I wanted out of this deathtrap
And wouldn’t hear my friends claptrap
About the evil of my leaving.
If she had wanted me to stick
Why did she go and get so sick?
And then I stopped, stared unbelieving:
It was the devil.  “Dogs are cheap,”
S/he said.  “When sick, they’re put to sleep.”
I AM THE DEVIL AND I APPROVED THIS AD

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