Short Story
Your turn of that page
has opened a drawer.
My home. I am his underwear.
He’ll always show you
the contents of his drawers
but never what he’s wearing.
He’s that kind of fellow.
But I’ll give you a clue:
I am his only pair of boxers.
To put it briefly,
he suffers a shortage.
Why only one of me?
Why only one day
of freedom per week
when he could have seven?
That is the question
I once heard
his girlfriend ask.
He replied like Robert Frost
that a little freedom
is almost too much
and went home and
put on briefs.
Short changed.
What sort of poem is that?
I didn’t change much myself, less than I used to think I had.
They say that in good novels the characters change. I’ve never noticed it in real life.
Perhaps one changes slowly under the influence of other people, in real life or in what one reads. One hopes of better people.
Did I say it right! What’s the next move!
Hmm… interesting comments. Thanks Churchill. I think there are also sometimes key moments when a person turns or gets turned, and there is life before that moment and life after. The turning might be nearly imperceptible in the moment but in the long run it makes all the difference.
I was about to say that I was afraid I would change as a result of recent experiences, but I hope not.
And, as Keynes said, and you know he said, we’re all dead in the long run. Albeit temporarily.
If boxer shorts allow
liberty to a dangerous degree,
fear the man in a kilt.