a poem about the grey man of ben macdui
My wife is not dead
but I am
It worries me
that she is
still
breathing
Things can happen to her
you know
The night I left her
I walked to Waffle House
“Hello, nine
pancakes please”
“Oh GOD!”
The lady screamed and ran out of the building
That was embarrassing
That same night I tried
to steal a hot-air balloon
and leave town
My evanescent hands wouldn’t let me
Eventually I hitched a ride
with a flock of Willow Warblers
some 10,000 miles
to my new home
Every night I've spent
here in Scottland
I've cried
I can't remember my wife's name
no matter how hard I try
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