All a ball of smoke.

~The Poet’s Poet~

As one word borrowed another.

What about yourself then he asked

Do you think you’ll chance another?

With a fat salary like yours

It is brandy I’d be drinking

What I drink and what I earn is my business

He wasn’t at all pleased with that riposte

I don’t like your attitude

Sure there you are, up in the big house

Roaming around all alone

I could have answered but kept my mouth shut

Cat got your tongue he asked

We sat in silence for a short period

Then he turned to me with that sly smile and said

Do you know how dangerous rats are?

They carry that Weill’s disease

Your man that was sitting two stools up from us

Shifted fairly smartly

Little did he know our conversation was a pure wind up

He might think twice next time about

Latching on to others conversations.

Strange things happen in public houses?

© Chris Black. January 2019

#Poetry #amwriting

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5 thoughts on “All a ball of smoke.

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