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Lives Anew
by
Rusty Broadspear
Charlie
Strudeltrack died, two years to the day,
Before he reluctantly made love to Mabel Horne.
In the grip of her thighs and dreadful lies, he
lay,
Two years to the day that he died and was
reborn.........
Vowing, once again, to live a life of bachelorhood,
Once more, desires of the flesh, demolished his
plans.
But Mabel was good and he thought she understood
The life he was seeking, was that of a single
man's.
At 48 and quite well healed, with time left to play
the field.
Bit of a bore, or so he'd been told - didn't make
him old
He looked a relative hunk, with his chest hair
revealed.
Just wanted to score - he didn't/couldn't do
controlled.........
Until he met Mabel Horne, a real goer and a half.
Use her once, use her twice, thrice at most, then
unload.
Unfrocked, she whined wedlock, he said, 'Yer 'avin'
a larf!'
She ceaselessly crowed, whilst he frantically
rode.........
The storm. Made up his mind - again it was time to
die.
Tomorrow, The Finale, The Finish, must be absolute.
He finished and said to Mabel, 'I'm going - feel
free to cry.'
Charlie Strudeltrack, didn't see himself as a
self-centred brute.
With Mabel safely in her stable, a bright new day
dawned.
Charlie planned to swim out to sea, leave his
clothes ashore.
His policies were nice'n'fat and he knew he
wouldn't be mourned,
New Ids were Charlie's career, with some, he was
held in awe.
On the beach he stood, at 5am, with chest hair and
nothing more,
He waded in - no - paraded in - he was proud and in
control.
Soon to be born anew, with a secure and single life
to explore.
He heard a yell, 'Get Back! The Currents!' - must
be beach patrol.
Unwillingly, he turned around, there stood Mabel,
the ace of spades.
Limply he trudged to naked Mabel, who was laughing
on the beach.
While they faced, then embraced, he thought of
explosive grenades.
But instead, he strangled her on the spot, she
didn't even screech.
Charlie thought, 'There's a first,' as she slumped
onto the sand.
Bewildered but sober, he carried her to the foot of
a cliff.
Wishing for socks as he laid her on rocks, he
softly kissed her hand.
He'd been smitten but knew they'd be written, as
victims of a lover's tiff.
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