The gentleman snoring

is so hard of hearing that he

thinks it must be stormy

whenever he releases such

a snorting fart that much

of what the blast does touch rattles

something fierce; the tables'

legs are shaking, candles flicker,

doors creak, dishes chatter;

but nothing can hamper his sleep—

he is in it so deep

that his nose starts to weep with snot

and I perish the thought

of heating the teapot; his nose

whistles loudly, and knows

more tunes than I, and goes on and

on, a whole nasal band

that I just cannot stand; but now

he's rolled over, and how

he grunts, just like a cow chewing—

the noises ensuing

becomes his undoing; someone

at last draws their weapon—

silence, after the gun firing.

TMK 26apr2010