*****

Recorded Reading (3:19): https://www.dropbox.com/scl/fi/2x85zs0ilrk63ma8gm288/The-Fine-Imported-Gramophone.mp3?rlkey=4hg86ymodrkgcvlayem3mhmt2&dl=0

*****

The Fine Imported Gramophone

When I was but a little lad
I was so very, very bad
And didn’t listen to my dad
As I wish now that then I had

It got me lots of trouble in
To tell you I cannot begin
Poor Dad just couldn’t seem to win
Amid my never ending din

In order just to make me hear
He’d have to hover awf’lly near
And scream it right into my ear
(I’m somewhat deaf since then, I fear)

He told me not to climb upon
His fine imported gramophone
If only, poor guy, he had known
I used it to crack walnuts on

Additionally used for it,
Because it made a perfect fit
If I used just a little spit,
A trophy — ’twas his favorite

I found out when it fell apart
And not all of my toddler art
And mind usually so smart
Successfully could even start

To put it back together, though
I gave it my best even so
And made a monstrous lump it grow
Which never more might hope to know

Its primary dimensions — strange to say
As I my childhood back in mem’ry play
He never talked to me about that day
I guess just must have put the thing away

He didn’t seem to stop smiling at me
Though each day for about a week I be
Moving about the home some cringingly
Wondering when the hand of justice see

As I remember, never did descend
He stayed, as ever, just my bestest friend
I did some other damage I can’t mend
But he stayed faithful right up to the end

That’s not to say, naturally, of course
He didn’t recommend a change of course
From time to time, or even try to force
Or trick me to it, without remorse

But never pointed out, when all was done,
That circumstance his point had fairly won
Preferring celebrate what was begun
For me — as it had all just been some fun

Instead of what I know to be
Looking back from maturity
A lot of thoughtful trouble he
Put himself through, to help me

It didn’t stop me being a scamp
I drowned the cat, I broke our lamp
I terrorized our forest camp
Got him, one night, very damp

Although found there was worse to get
Oh yes, very much worse, you bet ~
He didn’t rest that issue let
Until he’d got me soaking wet

I snuck the car out on the sly
And drove it back home by and by
To find I couldn’t park it. Why?
There, in the driveway, prone he lie!

You know, no matter what my whim
All my pizzazz and all my vim
The chances yet were mighty slim
That I’d get anything by him

Well, I digress. The point I make
Young scamp, young scoundrel, little rake
Is: You respectful notice take
Of anything by me “bespake”

Beginning with legitimacy
I claim in that last word there be —
Do you plan to argue with me
Or — much more wisely — to agree?…

*****

This poet presently lives at a fraction of her nation’s poverty level.

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