Grandpa Jake

We called him a snake

A fake, a baker

Who couldn’t bake

That’s what we called 

Him, grandpa Jake

–

Up all night, his hands

White, bright with flour

Powdering the light this

Grandpa up all night

–

He failed at this he failed

At that- should have

Gone to the matt

Had to be carried to this

And carried to that

–

A scrap of belt he kept

That showed the tightening he

Was dealt, life’s fees

Life’s tolls, he kept the part 

With added holes

–

Dreamt of more since five

money was parted by the rive 

Wallet, as the liver was, bagged

Then puffed up, then sagged

–

Tonkered on stage

With the scenery

Paged on wires the greenery

Show closed so started

A creamery

–

Milked the cows as they

Stood in rows

The morning sun made him glow

But couldn’t do what he

Didn’t know

–

Cranky so to no one an uncle

Tipped into a sink-hole

Fell like a trunk’ll

Dimmed as a cigars carbuncle

–

He was a king as grandma

Told it

We cursed him and 

Were scolded

His shirts in the drawer

Still folded

–

Grandma wanders halls

And everyday calls

She calls me jakey

And I love her so I say

Nothing at all

–

So now as him I am fated

Not a name I should have hated

Just a sound that grandma makes

In a song about her Jakes