A poem about what a heartless woman can do to a decent guy.


I found the note pinned to the door,
‘Dear John,’ it began - as that was me I read more.
But in no time I was shaking and becoming distressed,
You’d found a new suitor, more suitable I guess.

You said I lacked manners and social graces,
Like when I scratch my privates in public places.
And that I never liked your hockey friends,
And accused them of all being lesbians.
But they were, weren’t they? And if not who cares,
I hated their inane chatter and disapproving stares.
Their chubby legs and stupid faces,
The boring stories about boring places.

But I made you laugh and I bought you stuff!
And said when you made an effort you didn’t look rough.
That dressed as a hooker, you looked top.
And I loved playing the part of a traffic cop.
All that affection and flattery, look where it got me;
Single again, and faced with the dating lottery.

And the weeks began to pass…

I’m dying here, this is no joke,
Since you left all I do is watch TV and smoke.
And drink and scratch, and moan and wail,
And burp, and fart and flop and flail.
I’m a shrivelled up little husk of a man,
Dehydrated and badly in need of a tan.

Last week all I ate was Pringles,
For two days I had no spit, now I’ve got shingles.
My eyeballs went yellow and my hair fell out,
My balls disappeared and I think I’ve got gout.

A change is needed, I feel it’s due,
If I’m to survive, let alone get over you.
A shower, a shave, some vitamins and a run,
Will have me back in the game my son!

I’ll buy some new clothes and hit the town,
Cruise the bars and put it around.
I could meet a beautiful woman and dazzle her with my wit,
Drown her in sophistication, really lay it on thick.
We could go back to mine, make love and become one.
The start of something special, the start of something fun.

A new beginning, yeah, that would be alright.
Actually, fuck it - Robocop’s on tonight.

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