my sunday poem … # 8

my sunday poem … # 8

I don’t have a clue as to precisely why I wrote this poem. I feel it may be more of an abstract painting in disguise than an actual poem. Everything serves some purpose. So if it makes you smile even just a little bit … then that must be why I wrote it.

no mere coincidence

once upon a time
there was a man called
bertanovitch noverichenstein
he was a russian jew
who blew
raspberries in his spare time
and who knew
a woman
who swept the kremlin floors
in her sleep
and she liked cats

there was another
his name was
nicholai popolopodopovitch
and he never knew
that russian jew
who blew
raspberries in his spare time
and who knew
a woman
who swept the kremlin floors
in her sleep

which was probably
just as well
because he didn’t
like cats

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