A forgetful fellow never there was,
as he made sure by day’s breaking,
never having woken to see but set
of sun; dawn n’er broke for this, a
f’otten sir remembered by his lack.
Not as though he were bothered as,
say, a more severe condition, still
he made light of it by means allied
with the logistics of a horticulture as
he, broke, bricks a reddened tomb.
In his swagger rests the sway of
confidence, if not a distaste for all
as is, for all should be as he, relaxed
to walk of shoulders, as they work
a more controlled means than legs.