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Path: High School (1980-1985) » More Poems from High School » Letter

Letter (apologies to the former Headmaster of Upper Canada College)

by James C. Morehead

 

Dear Dick,

 

They told me Dicky Sadler,

They told me you were dead.

They told me it was syphilus

That rotted your old head.

 

Your lovely wife was quite morose

She cried herself to sleep:

She thought it was an overdose,

Not something quiet so cheap.

 

At Mutual of Ohama

They're wary of your death,

They're sure it was no accident

That made you lose your breath.

 

In 1-oh-6 of U.C.C.

They're spending lots of time:

Old Bredin is the principal

Suspected of the crime.

 

They've found no evidence just yet

To back this fearless claim,

It looks like time is running out:

They'll have to pay the dame.

 

I know there is no truth in them

(Those rumours running round)

Because I'm staring at you now

And dare not make a sound.

 

Tomorrow you will meet your wife,

Upon this boiling sand :

And live a life of luxury

Where work is getting tanned.

 

With all the photographs I've got,

You're in a bit of trouble.

Unless you want those pictures found,

My fee had better double.

 

Sincerely,  Mr. Adamson