Bogart & Bacall

With nothing else to do this fall

Be Bogart in search of Bacall

With nothing to pray this winter

Make a god of a wood splinter

With nothing left undone in spring

Squeeze in time for a noonday fling

With nothing to slay this summer

Hit the beach and be a bummer

There’s always a happy ending

When someone else does the mending

So buck up and be of good cheer

And imagine life’s a free beer

You may be wrong to live that way

For hell may be the price to pay

But perverts never really hurt

When they can lift up Bogie’s skirt

And laugh at what they find beneath

While others prop up a tired wreath

Published by Michael Sean Erickson

I write, act, and produce films in Los Angeles. Everything else is conjecture.

3 thoughts on “Bogart & Bacall

    1. I agree. The poem started off as flippant and fun, but as I progressed with the verses they veered into a dark corner. I chose to let those verses go where they naturally would, even if that meant a sudden change in tone midway through the piece. In the past, I wrote a lot of horror novels and short stories. As much as I may write lighter verses nowadays, I cannot shake that sensibility I developed as a child that there is a dark monster lurking beneath the surface of an otherwise pleasant or even beautiful moment. I grew up in a home I firmly believe was haunted and used to see strange and unsettling apparitions at night. There was considerable love in that home, but that did not stop the shadow people from poking into my bedroom or staring down at me bedside now and then.

      Liked by 1 person

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