I Feel Sorry For The Guy Poem by Saul Palti

Gone is second times passing search
of all our moments stuck on my perch
gathered at such pace yet the same
a minute is a hundred ticks of such fame
this will never happen again

a teacher tells tails to her master
all ways wanted a masterpiece hanger
and a young teen lover to temp
underneath the lit midnight lamp
so screw the night straight trough

selling stories with twisted lies
how the brown cow flies so high
under the gossip of used and abused
someone who has broken all the rules
and been left with blood on his stick

forgone conclusions painted with cellar tape
never asked for always late and fake
bringing moments to our about
and this is loud and in need of a shout
what the hell is this apprentice

there hours lend a watchful glance
springing to life and a bountiful dance
under the eyes of others who wont dare
to be naked and bare
just as quickly and quietly and a butterfly


how am I meant to remember yesterday
when people are paid to have their say
receptionists lining up for jobs
without their dash and braise just slobs
and everyday is a blur

last week already has been
so maybe next time its so clean
watching the washing machine go round
making a twirling sound
English people do not even speak English

the years float back with pictures
of never wanted or recollected
times old task truly delivered
upon the long necked volchers