EMPTY HEAD SONNET

I’m no Athena, worth, I lack;

The price drops daily, on my head.

I have no head for names, alack,

even that lady’s that I wed.

Nose-first, zig-zag I make my way

asking kind passers-by when nearing

where’s my home, who might I be, pray,

they seem stumped, baffled, hard-of-hearing.

I tell the mirror, scatty-bat:

—— What’s up, dude, you, in some strange flat?

When he doffs, I see he’s my match,

seen — in the papers, come to think! ——

quick, fix a slivowhisky drink:

—— to Godot, cheers —— and down the hatch!