“Words are lies,” the Master said. But I cheated on my wife, With the fingertip of my index. When the house of cards fell, She was gone, and it's over. Maybe I wasn't cut for it. So I went to hell in a handbasket, Settled my own cozy circle. With some work, it's not all bad To be married to my own life: When there's no way out, Compromise is much easier. Even better, nobody is leaving. Finally, I can be faithful here, And hear the dawn chorus sing.