Wednesday, August 5, 2015


When my father was a welfare agent
He had a client who heard voices
Which, unfortunately, had little to say.
Mostly, they just seemed surprised
And would interrupt her thoughts with
"Fancy that!" or "Well, I declare!"
She was, he told me, a stoic woman
Who suspected her own sanity
But was a little bitter that madness
Had not proved more interesting.

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