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
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