I Heard a Buffalo Before I Died (The Irish Dreamer)

I Heard a Buffalo Before I Died (The Irish Dreamer)    By: Dream Reamer and Castro

      Alone in the wood

            In a mystical foreign land

              I held a flower, in the palm of me hand

   As its pedals shed – I sweat profusely

     For when it died, I knew I would too.

       So my love for it was as deep as a great lake

      So I cared for it in me little tenet hut,

            And watered it daily from dawn to dusk

                  And prayed to God for a little bit of luck.

                  And comfort.

                  And more water.

                  And a child of my own – I was lonely.

     

As summer turned to fall, and fall into winter

            The flower slowly began to wither.   
   As it faded, I nervously patter-pittered.

     On the eve of December 21^st

             A young buffalo appeared from the brush

                                  And was dying of thirst

      I gave it all of me food – all of me water

            Because I knew I would be gone tomorrow

                  And I journeyed away into the forest with sorrow

      I awoke the next morning to my surprise

               The flower was dead but I was alive

                                 Yes – LIFE! I will survive!

      But there was a problem in this predicament

                  I had given me belongings to the buffalo.

                        I was essentially a man with nowhere to go

                        No water to drink

                        No food to eat

                        No safe hut – just trees and snow

      Now I would die – no doubt about that

            So I was to kill the buffalo for his warm fat

                  And collect what is mine and take it back

      So I prepared an ambush of the greatest kind

            But the buffalo was brilliant to my surprise

                  As I looked and hunted for it vastly

                        All the while, it was hunting me.

                  It snuck up so sneakily under my eyes

            It gored me in the back with its vicious horns

      And started laughing with terrible scorns.

     

So the last thing I heard before I died

Was a buffalo laughing at my demise.

      Then I woke up to the smell of eggs

            I still had me arms – still had me legs

      So I rushed to me loving wife downstairs

            Who made me breakfast that delighted the air

                  And I told her of my awful,

                  Terrifying,

                  Scary,

                  Twisted,

                  Bizarre

                                          Nightmare.

All of a sudden, there was silence

                  Just a little too quiet

                        The pedals had shed on all the violets.

                                    I knew there would be death

Maybe me nightmare was to be true, the thought of it made me ever so blue

The ending of this was ever so clear

      It made me so sad, I produced a tear

            But in the midst of me agony I heard a far off prance

                  Can you guess the ending of this? I bet you can’t!

A real buffalo crashed through me window and I choked on me eggs because it scared me.

It gored me wife and kids, because in Ireland bison roam proud and free

            Me death was much less painful…

I just choked on some eggs.

Lucky me.

Loosely Inspired by: I Heard a Fly Buzz before I Died by Emily Dickinson