SERVO

The man with the key to my cufflinks

told me, “The earth is flat,”

and that I’d better believe it

or I’d be toast.

Toast is not a bad thing to be –

when cooked well it smells

of warm milk and evenings at home –

but this guy was not being funny.

I took him to mean that

I’d burn unless I changed my view.

If he wants the world to be flat then OK:

no-one’s likely to fall off the edge.

So I say to the man with (he says) the key

“Hey, mate, the world is flat.”

“How can I believe that?” he asks,

I say, “Well, you’re the one who just told me.”

I could see complex processing going on

behind his face.  Was that a shadow of doubt?

Not likely.  So am I free?

No, bugger me: he’d lost the bloody key.