Friday, April 15, 2016


                Sometimes life can seem so hard
                And then you get a birthday card.
                The next year starts, the last one ends,
                Marked by a verse with note from friends.

                Since it seems so often this transition
                Sets off howling and derision,
                perhaps next year instead of verse
                we’ll send you something even worse:

                A birthday bomb, a birthday fart,
                A special birthday broken heart,
                Or plague, or flood, or drought near endless,
                To remind you: you remain not friendless.

                So then again, maybe not,
                Maybe just stick with what we’ve got.
                It’s trite, it’s tacky, kitsch and bland,
                But safe: it won’t blow off your hand

                Or leave a smell or start to smoulder,
                Instead just leave you one year older.
                This birthday poem’s gone on too long
                To fit the card. Perhaps a song

                Would have worked out better.
                Or an email, tweet or letter.
                Enough! There’s just one thing left to say:
                <Beloved> have a Happy Birthday

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