A painter with scissors!
A regular Henri Matisse are you, a
decoupage with a blinking cursor:
you’ve resurrected my youth!
Glory! Be the erasures you’ve
been kind enough to pixilate
all evidence of the lives I’ve
Lead, won, or better, assimilate!
With a power mightily assigned
to your clicking little mouse,
You’ve smoothed the tracks
upon my temples, and cleaned this earthly house.
With a stroke of an airy brush aligned,
Over the grayish orb, each eye,
You chivalrously took my bags, without asking,
And carried them off, without a sigh;
Alas, in those bags are frets, and reveillons;
a lady, wise, am I; knowing that I take, alight:
this land has stones, the meat has bones.
Thanks! I’ll make it home alone, alright.
He who wants a mule without fault must walk on foot. -English proverb.