You know I always thought

He had a Romanian head on him

Romanian, how so?

Well, It had that bloated look to it,

And Romanian heads always

Look soggy, I think

Hemingway had it in spades..

‘Course it might be the drink, too

He could never pass a bar,could he?

Or it might be that time he landed on his head

In those two helicopter crashes he had

One after the other, the same day I think.

Split his skull open

Exposed his innards to those African parasites

Who knows what damage they did,

Rampaging around his grey matter.

He never said much about it afterwards

Though that twinkle in his eye

Often looked more like a twitch.

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