Poetry Thursday

 

I

“There is going to be a flood,” the town folk told Juan Pierre

But he ignored them and sat on his derrière, 

But soon nature would catch him in her snare

When a heavy rain filled the air.

II

Water quickly filled his room

And so the house did not become his tomb

He escaped from the skylight the gathering gloom

Like a baby pushing out of the womb

III

Above water he could barely keep his head

And around him the current sped

When he saw a little

His friend Jack riding on a bed

IV

Univited Juan Pierre pulled himself aboard

And thanked the Lord

But then found himself with a fact he abhorred

The bed was sinking from the head board

V

Their chances of reaching high land frayed

And when Juan Pierre told Jack to get off he dismayed

”I’m not Jack and your not Rose,” Jack tried to persuade

”And before Jack got off at least Rose got him laid.”

VI 

Juan Pierre said they could take turns on the float

And when he won rock paper scissors he couldn’t not help but gloat

When Jack jumped off and grabbed the side Juan Pierre kick him in the throat 

And Juan Pierre taunted his for: “I will never let go Jack, quote unquote”

VI

When Jack stood the water was up to his knees and he wasn’t that tall

The water had receded after the sudden squall

And with glee Jack watched and with happiness he did bawl

As Juan Pierre and the bed fell towards the sewer after going over a water fall