On Giving Up The Drink: (a kyrielle)

[tectak]

He spoke my name as clear as day
and asked me if I'd like to play.
A teddy bear that sang to me;
I thought it odd, it couldn't be.

He offered me a fat cigar
and took some biscuits from a jar,
then set the table, made some tea.
I thought it odd, it couldn't be.

His mouth was stitched, his eyes were glass
A bruin with panache and class
"One lump, and cream, a slice of brie?"
I thought it odd, it couldn't be.

We ate the cheese, some crackers too;
the creamy sort with veins of blue,
upon his leg I saw a flea.
I thought it odd, it couldn't be.

A flea that liked to play charades
while wearing minute Oakley shades.
It jumped about and laughed with glee
I thought it odd, it couldn't be.

Eventually as night wore on
the drunken flea and bear had gone,
so I just sat there all at sea
and thought it odd, it couldn't be.

---

i tried so hard to do a pretty serious poem, somehow i couldn't stop thinking of the teddy bear we have on our bed (long story)

Critics are shy right now but there is the possibility that they are speechless with awe
Your should give up the drink more often, billy. This is terrific. I would double-post this into p for f just to give the fun seekers a chance to read it.
Absolutely no complaints. Very well done. Maybe try for a stronger line penultimate last, but your call.
Best,
tectak