Colin Kromozone De Fect

                               Colin Kromozone De Fect

Colin Kromozone De Fect
was not a foreigner,
according to him.
With a helmet on his head,
he liked to sit in parks,
watching swans and ducks,
keeping trim,
web footing in the water,
without the need to swim.
His father was a Byzantium Jew,
one of the last remnants
of the long obscured land of Lorgim.
His mother hatched from a phoenix egg,
planted on the doorstep of a Romanian gypsy,
who could not tell a fortune or sell a peg.
Anyway, Colin would say,
he was thoroughly English,
despite his strange sounding name.
No one believed him,
but he would not play their game.
Any other man alive
would change his name
to Jones or Smythe,
such was the opinion
of those who knew him well.
He begged to differ,
but parsimoniously agreed
that apart from his strange name,
of him there was nothing more to tell.

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