The brother of "La Danse Des Morts..."

I am posting "Dear Jolly Roger", the brother of "La Danse des Morts". I made this a long, long, long time ago, and then stashed it somewhere. Finally, it reappeared on the coffee table in Bulacan the weekend before last, and I read it again, and I found that it made me happy.

If you don't like hate poems, then I strongly advise that you not read this. This poem was initially supposed to be a commentary on how the Jolly Roger has such a happy-sounding name and yet is a symbol of death and doom (a most cruel irony, I think), and yet I found that the motive was twisted while I was writing it, and this came out. For some reason, all my poems of the time turned out this way. Hahahahahaha.

Dear Jolly Roger

Dear Jolly Roger, tell me why
Your arms are crossed today;
Who hurt you (now, what fool would try)?
Who made you scowl that way?

Dear Jolly Roger, what's the plan?
You seem engaged in thought.
How do you plan to strike the man,
The one that you just fought?

Dear Jolly Roger, what a shame...
Your (two-syllable expletive) friend is dead.
His last word was...it was your name;
That's what the neighbors said.

Dear Jolly Roger, tell me this:
Why do you laugh that way?
What was the joke it seems I missed,
The one that made your day?

Dear Jolly Roger, please disclose
The secrets that you keep
With each day my interest grows,
And it's robbing me of sleep.

Dear Jolly Roger, now I see
You killed him, did you not?!
Some small talk, then a drinking spree,
And then you sliced his gut!

Dear Jolly Roger, is it true?
You're innocent, you said?
'Cause none will tell me, no one knows;
And those who do- are dead.