Full nude,
he was found, butt down
and bleeding in the barberry.
Fearing he’d fallen,
maybe striking the flat part of the roof,
at hospital, they ordered x-rays
as proof of unbroken bone.
He lived alone
and ‘they’ were the cops.
Anonymous callers,
Saturday’s last hour,
each relayed the same odd tune,
“With his arms stretched out there,
some Asshole lies bare
on a balcony, welcoming moon!”
By Sunday, the whisper sound,
of pew gossip theory
made it’s way through town.
“How in the heck
did he land on the ground?”
and,
“Why was he up there, late,
fooling around?”
Monday, ‘X’ was unconscious still,
when Caretaker Bill
came to brief the police,
“You missed this-here torn paper piece,
while attending that concussion,
it just might illuminate further discussion.”
The captain, curious, read:
“When moon waxes gibbous,
lie face-up outside.
It’s gravity’s pull can tumesce us,
the same thing happens with tide.”
Robert On The Air 