Saturday, February 03, 2007

#286: February 3, 2007

I met a stranger in a hockey mask
who strode implacably toward town today.
Just who he was I didn't stop to ask;
machetes make me step out of the way.

A little later I passed on that path
a joker in a sweater, green and red,
with finger-knives: one, two, three--do the math;
a charred fedora on his bald, burnt head.

Just when I felt my courage start to fail,
I spied, in blue coveralls, Captain Kirk!
Except he had a knife, and looked real pale--
and when I said hello, he went berserk!

That I beat it but good I need not mention;
as for those three--there must be a convention.

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