Dudley McDeadly was heavily armed
with most tastefully-chosen arrays
of light-armament, firearms,
bludgeons and blades, and a bomb
he was saving for later. He turned
with aplomb towards the future
where you, invincibly charmed
by his tall dark and handsomeness,
twirling mustache, and his striking,
unfashionable stovepipelike hat,
had consented to being tied down
on the tracks.
There was some small to-do, as you
quibbled a bit at the tightness of knot
binding ankle or wrist, and indeed
over whether it's fitting or fit
to lie trussed on your stomach,
and not on your back. But that Dudley
McDeadly has his own ideas, and hasn't
a lack. He makes his own plans, and
he plays his own hand. Which you, for
some reason, decided to take. As you say,
you're a fool for an ol'
A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years. Try the RANDOM button to sample the sometimes surprising breadth of quality (and in several Novembers, breathtaking quantity as well), or click the "ANY GOOD" label* for those poems labeled with it. On any poem, old or new, feel free to offer your remarkable insight or critical acumen.
*I haven't yet revisited many pockets and stretches of time to appraise and label the "any goods," so some are missing. Please feel free to point out omissions, or - especially - erroneous inclusions, in comments.