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No-Laid Clause

Cause I would do anything for love, but I won’t do that. Or that. Or that. That just seems unhygienic and the other thing aggravates my old war wound… On second thought, let me get back to you with a comprehensive list of the ordeals I would be willing to undergo in order to acquire said love.

Meatloaf was a regular fixture in my household growing up. Both as a protein heavy meal selection and the equally beefy recording artist. We definitely could have done worse on either count.

Today’s poem brings back a number of wonderful memories. Not only for the actual wedding for which it was composed but also the shining collective that is our shared joys together. Without a doubt two of the best people I know.


“Re: Your Wedding Thrift”,  July 5, 2018.

This may not be worth much today

But invest wisely it will pay

At realistic 6 percent

And for 50 years isn’t spent

Nine hundred and twenty-one

Dollars with which to have some fun

So really what I just bought you

A grand night on the town for two

Granted by then you’ll be so old

Jager corrodes your denture mould.


Granted this poem operates under the assumption that all Laurier students consume Jagermeister. That however is considerably less tenuous than most of the assumptions made in the economic models I spent my post secondary career internalizing. Would have been better off with the liquor methinks.

May the spirits of the season pay gracious homage to you all! Either in the form of raucous joy, or for the miserly, a casual triple haunting.

Dog bless us, everyone.

Happy Trails and Waggy Tales!

-Alex Blaikie

Categories: poetry writing

Tagged as:

dreadpoetssobriety

A broken mind held together by cellophane and some tack.

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