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Lives Anew


Rusty Broadspear

Charlie Strudeltrack died, two years to the day,
Before he reluctantly made love to Mabel Horne.
In the grip of her thighs and dreadful lies, he lay,
Two years to the day that he died and was reborn.........

Vowing, once again, to live a life of bachelorhood,
Once more, desires of the flesh, demolished his plans.
But Mabel was good and he thought she understood
The life he was seeking, was that of a single man's.

At 48 and quite well healed, with time left to play the field.
Bit of a bore, or so he'd been told - didn't make him old
He looked a relative hunk, with his chest hair revealed.
Just wanted to score - he didn't/couldn't do controlled.........

Until he met Mabel Horne, a real goer and a half.
Use her once, use her twice, thrice at most, then unload.
Unfrocked, she whined wedlock, he said, 'Yer 'avin' a larf!'
She ceaselessly crowed, whilst he frantically rode.........

The storm. Made up his mind - again it was time to die.
Tomorrow, The Finale, The Finish, must be absolute.
He finished and said to Mabel, 'I'm going - feel free to cry.'
Charlie Strudeltrack, didn't see himself as a self-centred brute.

With Mabel safely in her stable, a bright new day dawned.
Charlie planned to swim out to sea, leave his clothes ashore.
His policies were nice'n'fat and he knew he wouldn't be mourned,
New Ids were Charlie's career, with some, he was held in awe.

On the beach he stood, at 5am, with chest hair and nothing more,
He waded in - no - paraded in - he was proud and in control.
Soon to be born anew, with a secure and single life to explore.
He heard a yell, 'Get Back! The Currents!' - must be beach patrol.

Unwillingly, he turned around, there stood Mabel, the ace of spades.
Limply he trudged to naked Mabel, who was laughing on the beach.
While they faced, then embraced, he thought of explosive grenades.
But instead, he strangled her on the spot, she didn't even screech.

Charlie thought, 'There's a first,' as she slumped onto the sand.
Bewildered but sober, he carried her to the foot of a cliff.
Wishing for socks as he laid her on rocks, he softly kissed her hand.
He'd been smitten but knew they'd be written, as victims of a lover's tiff.

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