Good Day, Good Sir.

“Good day, good sir,
How do you do?”

“Quite well, quite fine,
And how ‘bout you?”

“Oh please, don’t ask,
My wife, insanely,
Put me on task,
To think, to figure,
To create a mask.
To ball, you see,
She goes tomorrow,
While I at home,
Do wallow in sorrow.
Our son just fried
In hell end’s pit,
Covered from head,
To toe in lava spit.”

“Dear god, dear my!
I feel you friend!”

“But wait, good sir,
This ain’t the end!”

“What! There’s more?”

“Aye aye, my mare,
Gave birth to foal,
Last night, last year.
That foal turned one,
And promptly died,
Struck down by lightning,
To where t’was tied.”

“My, my, your fate,
It seems be cursed,
But luck! – my miss,
A meal rehearsed.
Quite welcome I,
To dinner you,
Perhaps you’d join
Tomorrow at two?”

“That would be great,
But last we came,
To house of guest
And they not same
Remained thereafter,
Forever now,
And I reject
With saddened bow.
I must decline
For your good sake,
For I do fear
Repeat mistake,
And shed the laughter
From your house,
Bring dulling aura,
And sick your spouse.”