Poetry

1999
John Scranton, Aged 50
New York, USA
Little Man
When I was
A little man
I never went
Without my tinkle can.
Empty of pears
Peaches or juice
Its tin would shine
For my urgent use.
Kept in a place
So very special
Under the seat
Of Dad’s new Edsel.
Until the time
When I could go
The seconds passed
Forever slow.
Hiding from traffic
I would pee
Then happy little man
Once again I’d be.
Unless a bump
We happened to hit
Then to miss the can
Made it wet to sit.
© 1999 John Scranton - Contributed in April 2001

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