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Poem 50: Beautiful Bear

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Beautiful Bear


The bear that ate our lunch was cute.

You’ve got to admit.

I can’t refute

that I saw its shit


in the woods near where we put our tent.

My friend warned me we should probably go.

We probably should have went

and not slept out there in the snow.


Along the bear come and tried to maul

my friend and me as we slept.

I didn’t even think to call

the Wildlife Service as I crept


away as the bear mauled my friend

who yelled and screamed and squealed and died.

I knew he’d meet a gruesome end.

And that it was my fault so I lied


about what happened to my buddy.

I’m not sure our friends believe.

My reputation’s really muddy

even if they don’t retrieve


our friend’s remains inside the bear.

They will soon know the bear ate him.

For now I feel my hair

standing on end because my future’s dim.


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