The Ballad of Nothing

Oh, let me sing you a very glum tune,

Of bonjee and words inopportune:

Of flooding, mildew, hot water and cold–

Of nothing become manifold.

singing, hey nonnie nonnie a do a dingle

she dasn’t reveal her inner thoughts

singing, so much inside can make toes tingle

for such as this can’t be for naught.

It was a hot autumn day when she learned he’d sold,

But she hoped for safety in her leasehold,

And found the new landlord much the better:

He spoke as if a real go-getter.

Besides, the last never came through,

Not nearly as the wind that blew

Through the hole in the kitchen’s old door,

Or the cracks in the same room’s floor.

singing, hey nonnie nonnie a do a dingle

she dasn’t reveal her inner thoughts

singing, so much inside can make toes tingle

for such as this can’t be for naught.

When the rain rain rain came down down down,

She wondered if she might just drown,

For ten gallons was the sum she caught

In just one well-placed chamberpot.

But the purchaser fixed the roof real nice,

And praised her own work to the skies.

Surely this one was a better bet–

But she had not seen nothing yet.

singing, hey nonnie nonnie a do a dingle

she dasn’t reveal her inner thoughts

singing, so much inside can make toes tingle

for such as this can’t be for naught.

He promised he would fix the foundation holes

That welcomed in light and winter cold;

He vowed to place a new ceiling where

Before he came was naught but air;

He said he’d seal up window gaps;

He claimed he’d fix all handicaps.

But words are so simple to give

When in the problems you don’t live.

singing, hey nonnie nonnie a do a dingle

she dasn’t reveal her inner thoughts

singing, so much inside can make toes tingle

for such as this can’t be for naught.

Nothing was his trademark deed,

And nothing he did with great speed;

When ceilings fell and mildew called

And destroyed her treasures affectional,

He did nothing with such finesse,

And worked with ardent torpidness.

Oh, how she learned of his great worth,

Of how he walked upon this earth.

singing, hey nonnie nonnie a do a dingle

she dasn’t reveal her inner thoughts

singing, so much inside can make toes tingle

for such as this can’t be for naught.

When hot water became sporadic,

Nothing was more cinematic.

He said he’d fix it, nothing more,

And nothing came from her lessor,

And he bade her to go her way,

To leave her home that very day,

In rage he swore he would evict–

He thought that handy word would stick.

singing, hey nonnie nonnie a do a dingle

she dasn’t reveal her inner thoughts

singing, so much inside can make toes tingle

for such as this can’t be for naught.

Where nothing was his tool and trade,

She’d many alterations made–

Invested in fresh paint and tape,

Spackle, plastic, deadbolt, drape.

Hours of yardwork and trim,

Never did she find such grim:

Weeks and months making a home,

She’d transformed this catacomb.

singing, hey nonnie nonnie a do a dingle

she dasn’t reveal her inner thoughts

singing, so much inside can make toes tingle

for such as this can’t be for naught.

So she bade the mayor send his man

To submit the home to his savvy scan,

To inspect and make record

Of the worth of her lessor’s word.

And so he did, and thus she found

That nothing was the high resound

He had to make about the place

Where she had tried to give some grace.

singing, hey nonnie nonnie a do a dingle

she dasn’t reveal her inner thoughts

singing, so much inside can make toes tingle

for such as this can’t be for naught.

Three dozen violations there

From ceiling to the basement stair,

And all were where he’d nothing done:

The mayor’s word and hers were one.

But nothing was her lessor’s venue,

Nothing did he want to do

More than that which was now there–

Four states away he moved his cares.

singing, hey nonnie nonnie a do a dingle

she dasn’t reveal her inner thoughts

singing, so much inside can make toes tingle

for such as this can’t be for naught.

And nothing stayed with her at home,

And nothing came of nothing done,

And nothing grew where nothing was,

And nothing was industrious,

And nothing did he give her back,

Except a raged verbal attack,

So naught she said, and then she packed

All of her things in her rucksack.

singing, hey nonnie nonnie a do a dingle

she dasn’t reveal her inner thoughts

singing, so much inside can make toes tingle

for such as this can’t be for naught.

singing, hey nonnie nonnie a do a dingle

she dasn’t reveal her inner thoughts

singing, so much inside can make toes tingle

for such as this can’t be for naught.

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “The Ballad of Nothing

  1. I haven’t the glumness of ridding a house;
    But, how ’bout them midterm blues?
    Tommorow’s last class is soon to be doused,
    then a week to hear the songs of a muse.

    Times be tough in the heat of the sun,
    although this is March and it’s wet.
    Muses will inspire and heal ’til your done,
    Then you can snuggle and love on your pet!

    teehee
    🙂

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s