Sippican Cottage

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A Man Who Has Nothing In Particular To Recommend Him Discusses All Sorts of Subjects at Random as Though He Knew Everything

O Eeys That Loke

O Eeys That Loke
by: Sippican Cottage

Banquo’s ghosts all shuffle in 
Take their chairs and we begin 
They whisper things incessantly 
Beyond the ken of men like me 
I want to speak but I am mute 
So they continue in cahoots 
Or I can speak but never dare 
To make a squeak while they are there 
They hold a mirror to my face 
While drawing marks to prove their case 
Regret is limned in every one 
Perish crosshatched when they’re done 
The statue’s broke, there’s no repair 
But broken now it cannot wear 
But I am worn down — there’s the rub 
Until I join their shady club 
There’s one among them I can’t stand 
I’ve felt the touch of his right hand 
If he ever looks me in the eye 
I’ll lay down on the ground and die 
It’s worse than that; he does not linger 
Or look my way or lift a finger 
I turned my back on him you see 
Can’t help but turn his back on me 
Now I wander all alone 
The seconds tick by like a loan 
I’ll sit and murmur in my turn 
While children fill my leaky urn

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