Bright skin tight
a crazy canary yellow
jeans
my pride & joy
(my first Versace)
took a lot
of balls
to wear ‘em
but then
I got
‘em!
My mother hated
(with a vengeance)   them
(hated to pieces)
them
until one morning early
up with the crow of the cock
I cut them
myself to pieces
“Snick snack! ” sniggered
the scissors
(good for a laugh)
threw the shreds of the threads
up upon the roof
let an hour or so
pass
and then discovering
my own(the devil’s)   handiwork
accused her
of the dastardly deed.
Who else(I said)
wanted the jeans dead?
Who hated them
with such a passion
to do such...such
a thing.
Maybe she thought...
“I did it in my(God forgive)   sleep.”
“Although I know
I didn’t do it
it’s what I would have wanted done.”
After hours
struggling like a worm
I let her off the hook
confess it was I
that done them
(the jeans)    in.
She annoyed at the spoof
that took her in
but delighted at the demise
of those damn things.
The hearty laugh of then
the feeble smile of now
as she(here is this hospital)
tries not to die.