And then it struck me,
may be it wasn’t me
who I was to blame,
the other me was the
one responsible.
The other me had a regular
vision about a girl, a regular
he said, she in his dreams.
She looked anything but a girl,
he called upon me, as I dozed
on my water bed.
She was worried, he could tell,
and I knew that, as he kept
bugging me about her.
He followed her, now the
visionary girl, not a vision
anymore.
He went behind her like
an obedient doggie;
a doggie, he was
trying to poke her butt.
He kept following her
as he dragged me behind
him, and my weight he said
was a constant threat.
True, I wasn’t light for him
and then he said, we need
to make a deal.
A deal, I was awe-struck
by his clarity of thought,
which I declared to be
his cocky humor,
that brought me girls
sometimes.
And now, the deal,
yeah, the deal
of enormous loss,
was a great blow
to my poor belly.
And now,I’m struck
on the never stopping
treadmill, taking turns
to blow the girls
with the other me’s
cocky humor
and the new sinewy me.
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