When I put down shopping bags, they collapse
And empty all their contents far and wide.
Life lays for us so many of these traps;
Those falls that follow full and foolish pride.
Like striding from the toilet not done up;
Like fluffing big questions in interview;
Like missing my mouth with the coffee cup,
And missing the pool ball with shaking cue.
I marry in haste, repent at leisure;
I tell the truth when lies would do more good;
I think that others care for my pleasure,
And hope that we are sick of spilling blood.
From out the bag the red wine bottle juts,
Falls, rolls off the table, and spills its guts.
Wed 15 Nov 2006
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