[Three poems. Not intended to have anything to do with the experience of the original poster.]
MOTHER FINDS A GECKO, IN HER KITCHEN
I have a gecko in my kitchen
Who with uncertain curiosity and such eyes
Moves when it moves and then is cold blooded and still.
I have a gecko in my kitchen.
This kitchen it is mine
It doesn't belong to just any old
Tom, Dick, or Harry
For that matter
And it doesn't belong to a bloody Gecko.
I have a gecko in my kitchen.
On a scale of one to ten
Where "one" is the petty annoyance
Such as a hairy man a man all covered with hair
On a public beach where he has the same rights as me
And "ten" is the end of life as we know it
A gecko in my kitchen
Ranks about a two.
Nonetheless, and all the same,
Pari passu and ceteris paribus
All other things being equal
I have a gecko in my kitchen.
It is a sentient being but I am no Buddhist nun
Well not yet anyway but at this rate
I think I may give my kids to the shy folk, the fairies
And follow the temple bell
Then I shall look at the gecko in the monkish kitchen
And since he, or is it a she, or is it an It
And welcome him into a space
Of no ownership.
But right at this moment
Right in the Now
I have a gecko in my kitchen.
I think I shall move.
LIVING SINGLY HE FINDS A GECKO IN THE KITCHEN
Hello, lizard, how are you
Did you too escape from the zoo?
My word you do look queer
Do Geckos drink beer?
Is your greed for shelter good?
I think I shall call you Gordon.
Did he who make the Lamb make thee?
PETER FINDS A GECKO IN THE KITCHEN
What dat
Gonna scare da Cat
Come here you are smaller than me
Betya don't bite
If I feed ya right. Mom
Is the beautiful Lady and Dad is big and strong.
Don't mess with them and they won't mess with you.
I think I shall call you Lou.
_________________ Publish and be damn'd
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