Parting VI

Being a naturally perceptive fellow,

I always thought I’d know

When it was time to go.

It was a bit of a kick to find

I was wrong.

You and your droll sense of humor,

Who else

Could say “Hit the road”

In five languages and “Haul ass”

In three?

So much for my perception.

The bags are packed

And thrown in the rusty van

That’s always gotten me there.

It got me here

Tho’ you shuddered at the sight

Parked next to your shiny green MG

That, like you,

Never picked up a bit of dust

Driving your flawless highways,

Chin high and aloof.

I did my best to straighten out

Those little things that always drove you mad.

Most cured merely by my leaving.

No clothes here or there

Or lights left on

Or drawers not tightly closed

In your house of order

Where nothing was ever out of place

But me.

Well, I’ll be on my way

Be cool.

Spruce up on the languages

Ah, hell

I left the toilet seat up.


OCT 9, 1976