Pocket-money

By Parson Thru

Sat, 05 May 2012

1213 reads

6 comments

My mother reminds me that
when I was very young
I gave all my pocket-money to a man
who'd been given an accordion
instead of legs

Forty years on
I have to wonder why I still care

Isn't there a button somewhere
I can switch off?

Comments

PT - nice one, and food for

Permalink Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on Sat, 2012-05-05 10:36

PT - nice one, and food for thought. Tina PS, if you find that button, could you tell me where it is. And yet, on second thoughts...

It's better to have a heart

Permalink Submitted by Esther on Sat, 2012-05-05 10:41

It's better to have a heart that wants to give, if you find that button, I doubt whether you would use it; yes Linda, I agree...food for thought!

Parsons. Give up looking

Permalink Submitted by scratch on Sat, 2012-05-05 19:10

Parsons. Give up looking there is no button, at least not on people like you, I love this poem sweeping across the decades.

Thanks Tina, Esther and

Permalink Submitted by Parson Thru on Sat, 2012-05-05 21:19

Thanks Tina, Esther and scratch. Maybe I need a bottle infrontome. Ah! Just the man... Baron Philippe de Rothschild! Sit you down, old chap. Haven't seen you for years. Now...

Parson Thru

An accordion instead of

Permalink Submitted by Ibahas1 on Mon, 2012-05-07 17:08

An accordion instead of legs? That would be an interesting one to see. Really got me thinking. Sometimes I look for that button myself, but one just can't sometimes.

- Ian Bahas

Thanks salman. I think we

Permalink Submitted by Parson Thru on Thu, 2012-05-10 07:33

Thanks salman. I think we all are as kids. Parenthood is the art of fucking up the next generation. If they don't manage it the rest of the world will chip in.