The Coma III



by Rawclyde!


I love my magic carpet

I ride it every day

Now that I’m in a coma

I arrive right away


This morning while riding

In a shrunken state

Like an ant on a bread crumb

However, I was late




I was supposed to sing in

Mamoodia’s ear

Before she arose from her blankets

She’s up now without cheer


She peers at my somnolent form

on the mat in the corner

She is now wearing her burka

& I’m eternally the foreigner




Lost in a maelstrom deeper & deeper

Of comatose sleep nobody can understand

Nobody but he who voyages thusly

In strange strange Afghaneeland


Yes, lying there with plenty of time to think

He has discovered lots of things

How to do this, how to do that

& how to give Afghaneeland wings




Being as this strange land is

Really just a bubble in mine own head

I have discovered that it is I who is in charge

As I, yes, I twilight sleep on that thin bed


However, as I also ride my magic carpet

Here & there throughout the house

I discover my colonel

Sneaking a kiss with her ex-Taliban spouse




What a reminder is this!

How can it be that I rule this bubble

When Colonel Sheena Johnson rules me?

I, Capt’n Chuck Fiddler, gots trouble




Until I figure out what to do

I’ll continue my coma, my coma true blue

Where there is trouble, comfort may be found too

Mamoodia’s arrow stuck in the heel of my shoe



Afghaneeland Adventure Series | Old Timer Chronicle II

Text / Copyright Clyde Collins 2014



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