The Congenital Liar

Have ever you noticed that liars

Cross their fingers when they lie?

They seem to think it absolves them from

A judgement, up on high,

For fingers crossed means they didn’t mean

The thing they’re telling you,

But if you’re silly, and fall for it

They make you think it’s true.

I knew a terrible liar once

His name was John Coltrane,

He always cried on my shoulder then

As if he was in pain,

He said that life was short-changing him,

That there was nothing fair,

It only took just a minor thing

To drive him to despair.

We both worked then at an auto plant

And used a giant press,

Knocking out doors and bonnets there,

And working under stress,

For time and motion had set a rate

That we could not fulfil,

And truth to tell it had seemed like hell

And was making Coltrane ill.

No matter how fast we put them through

The steel kept banking up,

Thanks to the other press’s crew

Who’d stop, and have a cup,

While we were struggling then to clear

The backlog, piled up high,

And John was constantly in my ear,

‘I think I want to die.’

I said that he didn’t mean it,

It was just a lousy job,

But he just kept on repeating it

And even began to sob,

To tell the truth, it got on my nerves,

It really began to grate,

I lost my cool, and I said the fool

Was really tempting fate.

He seemed to go a bit crazy then,

Lay backwards on the dye,

I tried to pull him away, but he

Lay staring at the sky,

The press came down with a mighty thump

And it flattened out his head,

Two hundred and fifty tons per inch

Said John Coltrane was dead.

We all of us stood around in shock

When the press released him there,

All that was left was a headless corpse

With blood and brains to spare,

His corpse let out a terrible sigh

At the judgement he had lost,

For though he said he would want to die,

He lay with his fingers crossed.

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[T.S. Sky]

Wow that is a very good story. I love it.

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you David for sharing the amazing story in the poem. Always a pleasure to read your work.
Coyote

[Avinash]

He did not mean it. He just did a wrong calculation.

[KT-B]

You conjured up a great yarn here David, I've had jobs where I'd rather die than keep doing them so I totally got the poor mans despair in this write - but I wouldn't have really wished for death, perhaps as he didn't either - :)

[Susan 🦋]

OMG he smaashed his head! And just a corpse lying there!..my over active imagination is spinning with this vivid imagery in my mind! With fingers still crossed! yikes...poor poor john!.. wait how can a corpse let out a sigh? wasn't his brains all over the place? His Spirirt maybe..lol.. very interseting story here David...

[A Soap Mess Stories]

Quite a story. Well written.

[Einstein Noodle]

ahahahaha i absolutely love thsi my friend!! oh my ..i am reminded of a job i had during summer months when i was at college ..i worked at a plant that produced grain bins, fencing, gates etc. .. it involved corrugating, rolling, punching, shearing steal etc etc. ..anyway .. one day a guy got his fingers cut off in the shearing machine and when they took him up past the managers office and yelled for an ambulance ..the manage dropped to the floor with a heart attack ..what a crazy day it was .. however, unlike your friend John Coltrane, i don't think they wished for it ..and i know at least one of them did not cross his fingers :} and not to be confused with this John Coltrane
https://youtu.be/XpZHUVjQydI
another treat of a read for me sir!
E.