28 Poems - 23

They Call Me Jonah


When I was born my momma died
And then my daddy drowned.
They put me in an orphanage;
It burned down to the ground.

My foster father bought the farm
When a tumor went malign,
And I wound up in high school
In a town called Columbine.

No matter where I travel,
No matter where I roam,
The folks I greet end up dead meat
Or in a nursing home.

A trail of devastation
Follows me like a tru-u-u-u-u-uck.
That’s why they call me Jonah --
I’m nothin’ but bad luck.


I went to work for Starbucks
And never sold a cup.
I opened up a Bally
And it went belly-up.

I did the books for Enron
And they ran out of cash.
I got a job on Wall Street
And watched the Market crash.

When I turn on hot water
It always comes out cold.
I dig a ditch and strike it rich --
It all ends up fool’s gold.

For every dime I borrow,
Somebody’s out a bu-u-u-u-u-uck.
That’s why they call me Jonah –-
I’m nothin’ but bad luck.


When I take elevators
The cables tend to break,
And when I'm in Los Angeles
They have a major quake.

I climb into an airplane --
It falls like Lucifer.
Just call your boat Titanic
When I’m a passenger.

I bet the store back in ‘04
And watched the Yankees choke;
I helped McCain with his campaign.
(That was a fuckin’ joke.)

I exercise and (no surprise)
I’m thin as Friar Tu-u-u-u-u-uck.
That’s why they call me Jonah --
I’m nothin’ but bad luck.


So love me at your peril,
Befriend me at your risk.
I may look normal, sweet and warm,
But I’m the asterisk.

My middle name’s Disaster;
My last name’s Run Amu-u-u-u-u-uck.
That’s why they call me Jonah --
I’m nothin’ but bad luck.

If you were me, you’d turn and flee;
If I were you I’d du-u-u-u-u-uck.
That’s why they call me Jonah --
I’m nothin’ but bad
Nothin’ but bad
Nothin’ but bad luck.


copyright 2009 Matthew J Wells