Poemas

Survivor
Everyday
I think about dying.
About disease, starvation,
violence, terrorism, war,
the end of the world.

It helps
keep my mind off things.


The Mongrel

When Icame to live with you
I brought a brighteyed pup
and as our love matured
so the pup grew up

you fed him and you trained him
as if he were your own
you pampered him looked after him
until he was full grown

then you went away
now he's uncontrollable
inconsolable

mistresses they come and go
look pretty much the same
they pat his head and stroke his back
and say they're glad they came

but he's no longer interested
in feminine acclaim
and when they try new tricks
he tires quickly of the game

he skulks around the kitchen
looking old and slightly lame
at night he howls at the window
as if the moon's to blame

and with every sad encounter
I realize to shame
that my sadeyed mongrel
answers only to your name.


by Roger Mc Gough