Francis Meyrick

I looked in the mirror this morning

I looked in the mirror this morning,
un-fresh out of bed,
trying vainly to corral
my last few stuttering brain cells
flashing feebly in my sleep starved mind,

Overcome, I shut my eyes for a second
swaying precariously
gripping the cold plastic marble edge
of the weary, toothpaste stained basin
and tried to imagine myself a virile
sexy, well bodied, true blooded
hell-for-leather all defying ace
accustomed to my proper place,
flying through the myriad skies
conquering damsels and fathering dynasties.

Slowly and cautiously
I opened one eye
and peered furtively at the silhouette
that met me in the mirror;
I sighed, and opened the other peep hole,
and he… the Chosen One,
the True Heir of Ghengis Khan
scourge of all virginity
raised himself to his full height.

He needed a shave, I could see.
strong coffee
several stints and a shower
urgent oxygen,
and probably a face lift.

The words, spoken with feeling
Croaked out wearily, but with a certain mischievous delight…

“Morning, you dopey old fart… “

Francis Meyrick

Last edited by Francis Meyrick on June 16, 2013, 3:15 pm