Leg

The builder took his leg off

Dipped it in his tea

Wrapped it in an envelope

Sent it by the sea

The leg was a missionary

To spread news far and wide

The earth we know is sinking

Below the oncoming tide

At last it reached an ant’s nest

Laid all white and bare

He addressed the passing multitude

In a voice that didn’t care

I’m a wooden leg of history

You have me from the rump

Talking words of wisdom

For I am a worldly stump

Ants were midnight marching

Programmed not for thought

Here was just another obstacle

Something to be bought

With such a vacuous audience

The leg thought of home

For his mission was abortive

Like a heavy writing tomb

Upon an early shower

He strode a wooden tent

Miles across the airwaves

All his money spent

The builder who regretted

Every single day

The loss of his limb

That he had sent away

In a crash of a heart beat

Laid upon the floor

The piece that was missing

He gave a mighty roar

Picking up his leg

Dipped it in his tea

Said no more proselyting

And strapped it to his knee