The Man in the Milk. By CpSingleton © 2015
Inside a curdled splot of milk
Lays a very tiny, but happy man.
His clothes are cut from finest silk.
His socks are white just like a van.
His arms are fixed behind his head,
His legs are bent there at the knee.
He’s neither fat nor under fed.
He’s happy just to sit and be.
He has no opinions of this life.
At least no more, no less than you.
He knows the sun goes around his wife.
Though in science talk that’s nothing new.
Please do not tell him he’s a fool,
If your life has certain worth!
He passed his exams back at school,
Just forty eight minutes after birth.
So there he lays in deep cut joy,
Like nothing seen or glimpsed before.
He’s the one and only man/boy
You’ll find in milk splots on the floor.