Noises from underground made gibber some
Others collected & dug henry up
Saying ‘You are a sight.’
Chilly, he muttered for a double rum
Waving the mikes away, putting a stop
To rumors, pushing his fright
Off with the now accumulated taxes
Accustomed in his way to solitude
And no bills.
Wives came forward, claiming a new Axis,
Fearful for their insurance, though, now, glued
To disencumbered Henry’s many ills.
A fortnight, sense a single man
Upon the trampled scene at 2 a. m.
Insomnia-plagued, with a shovel
Digging like mad, Lazarus with a plan
To get his own back, a plan, a stratagem
No newsman will unravel.