Now Jack, you know so very well
you will probably get caught
by that irate farmer in the dell

No wonder fate has stopped
you where you ought to drop

To steal a goldfish
from his wishing well
and throw it in my laundry pail!
You really should be thrown in jail.

I know why you were so foolish
you thought you’d treat that Cheshire cat
but she’s already twice as fat
as our neighbour, Jack Spratt

Don’t whine when they wrap you in brown paper
and douse your wounds with vinegar
you know you were out of line to steal
and that cat’s had too many meals
besides, the fish isn’t even real
nor the cat, so what’s the deal?

She’s from a picture in a book
she sits up high and smirking, looks
down upon you, lying there
all upset, water streaming through your hair

Oh Jack, you get us in such ruts
I don’t know why you do this stuff.

11/17/2004

Author's Note: a persona poem from a jump-start exercise in class the other night. I drew Jack and Jill, and had to include a fish in the poem and an act of stealing, with the reason for it. We had ten minutes or so, and this what resulted.

Posted on 11/17/2004
Copyright © 2024 Maureen Glaude