A Belated Postcard from a Friend

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Poetry by Adam Tod Leverton

Submitted: December 13, 2010

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Submitted: December 13, 2010

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The friend you knew
so well is dead.
He tired of the money lenders
the cackling hordes
fat and plump
begging (despite their girth)
for more and more.


Tiring of their coddled cries,
your friend has,
most convienently
pushed himself off
a ledge.


the prim ladies gasp.
(Gasp)


o do not weep!
fair squirelly maidens
of lamentation and epitaph
he is dead
only to those who stalk him
like a gazele
pestered by gnats.


suffice it to say
the death was forged


he's on the lamb incognito
he still eats when hungry
still drinks when thirsty
still sleeps when tired
and benefits from the graze
of a lonely woman's hand.


In closing
I can only
assure you
that he is in
a much better place
(Hull).


Yours, sincerely, etc,
Lors Tornthrope, the third, esq.

Adam Tod Leverton

email:atleverton@yahoo.ca
Blog:www.adamtodleverton.blogspot.com
MySpace:www.myspace.com/adamtodleverton
Facebook:Adam Tod Leverton
Twitter:@atleverton


© Copyright 2020 Adam Tod Leverton. All rights reserved.

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