Ernie Kovacs came to my house
in the middle of the night.
He snuck around turning on all my taps.
He left the refrigerator open.
He grumbled about the lack of ashtrays,
then flicked his cigar ash
into a big Mikasa punch bowl.
I started to complain and he said,
“You drink a lot of punch?
Do you ever make punch?
Then it’s an ashtray.”
We fired up the fifty incher
and I showed him how to use the DVR.
He ran through all the stuff we’d recorded.
I thought he’d be enchanted;
I thought he’d be amazed
but all he said after was,
“I have never been so glad to be dead.”
I dug out my dvds of the Dean Martin Show
and we watched Dino while Edie Adams
massaged his back and Jack Lemmon
tinkled on my piano.
In the morning the wife said
“You sure made a lot of racket last night.”
I promised to never do it again.
The wife opened all the windows
and I threw the Mikasa bowl into the trash.
I don’t need an ashtray.