ON top of some dead leaves
which I plan to burn
I placed my late lover
and poured the sauterne

that we had been drinking
when he said, ''Good-bye.
I've found a new lover
who's younger, more spry

than you are, my dear one.
Now please do not cry.''
I thought to myself, ''Damn!
Now he has to die.''

I just could not let him
walk out of my life.
I went to the kitchen
to get a sharp knife.

While he was still yakking
about his new broad,
I mumbled a few words
on not being maud-

lin or teary about
his report
of finding another
new sexy cohort.

I snuck up behind him
and gave a quick thrust
and then oh-so-quickly
my carpet turned rust.

I think I surprised him -
he did not expect
that I would just stab him -
no time to collect

all his wits about him,
ere he did expire.
I went to the backyard
and lit a bonfire.

In autumn, you can't tell
what's burnt in a yard.
It could be some raked leaves
or a jerk caught off-guard.

Let this be a lesson
and please believe me;
if you're my next lover
don't try to leave me.