Nelson

Last night we named time;
we called him ‘Nelson’,
after your great uncle.
“—So much for Nelson, now”,
It’s nearly half past two, and
he’s nearly dead; we can’t
revive him, he wouldn’t
want that. Nelson can stand
only so much decay and
decadence. Let’s play checkers
you say, ‘in the dark’. Just
move the pieces, and
let Nelson make the moves.
That will fix him! The old
curmudgeon
waits for no one.
Occasionally, he was given to
strong drink – gin, primarily.
Damn that Nelson you say
as your liver fails.
He should have died a peaceful
death twenty years ago. In the
horse barn. Surrounded by
straw, timothy hay and
Appaloosas.

And we should have
invited the old goat to
Thanksgiving dinner,
instead of sending him a postcard
from Maui…
we should have been more
cautious.
Hindsight is unimportant.
Nelson never
turns around.