Another of my short pieces, wakakaka.
Once the genie is let out of the Constitutional flask, you can't put it back!
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And now a poem from Shel Silverstein (taken from The Literary Bug):
The Genie In The Flask
The Genie In The Flask
I opened up that magic flask,
And zoof, up popped a genie.
I thought he’d be my slave, but no–
This genie is a meanie.
Instead of filling every wish
And doing all my bidding,
He says that I must be his slave,
And oh, He isn't kidding.
I sweat and cough with no days off
From Tuesdays until Mondays.
I cook his beans and scrub his back
And wash his yucky undies
And sweep and paint–this surely ain’t
The magic I was hopin’.
I guess in life it all depends
Which magic flask you open.
And zoof, up popped a genie.
I thought he’d be my slave, but no–
This genie is a meanie.
Instead of filling every wish
And doing all my bidding,
He says that I must be his slave,
And oh, He isn't kidding.
I sweat and cough with no days off
From Tuesdays until Mondays.
I cook his beans and scrub his back
And wash his yucky undies
And sweep and paint–this surely ain’t
The magic I was hopin’.
I guess in life it all depends
Which magic flask you open.
