HIGH CRIMES AND MISDEMEANORS

HIGH CRIMES AND MISDEMEANORS

It was not a high crime, it was just a misdemeanor.
So I ate a dried apricot from your bag of trail mix.
You don’t even like them, I could have been a whole lot meaner,
I could have taken an almond, or perhaps a pretzel stick.

It was not a high crime., it was just a misdemeanor.
I ran over your cat with the lawn mower,
She was so fast I didn’t see her.
And besides I would think you would keep her indoors,
Or at least upon her leash.
With me out operating heavy machinery,
You’re quite the one to preach.

It was not a high crime, it was just a misdemeanor.
So I drove your precious Acura into a snow bank.
The snow was cold, the car was old, unwieldy like a tank.
It was really not my fault at all, I blame it all on my disease,
The Parkinson’s, the cancer, I can’t remember which of these.
Perhaps it was the Alzheimer’s I’m really not for sure.
I have lots and lots of strange diseases for which there is no cure.

It was not a high crime, it was just a misdemeanor.
So I set the house on fire with my popcorn in the microwave.
You could have been a tad more gentle, you could have been a tad more brave.
Instead of fuming over losing a full eight hours of sleep,
And a ton of your designer clothes that were burnt and were not cheap.

It was a high crime not a misdemeanor, to ever say goodbye.
You were the sweetest man I ever knew with such beautiful blue eyes.
And now I sit a man alone in the prison of my years,
Shackled by my loneliness, condemned to a torrent of tears.

It was a high crime not a misdemeanor, and now I’ve learned my lesson.
With your boyfriend’s trail mix you shouldn’t go a ‘ messin.’
Or at least you do it on the sly and do not go confessin’.
Here I sit in a dreadful snit and I’m sorry I forgot,
To drive myself to Wal-Mart and buy my own dried apricots.

-Bruce Potts
Copyright 2011
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED