December 4, 2013 (I was 69)
It is difficult to be stupid everyday
I seem to forget how nearly every night
Just before I fall asleep I feel smartness creep in
I wake up clear-headed and practical
at times even ambitious and tolerant
perfectly willing to pass others with a smile
wishing them good morning as if it were mine to bestow
Soon I get to thinking change is possible
then encounter the complexity of inertia
a recollection of mindlessness at first
a low drone the scent of futility remembered
from history books and faded newspaper
the re-acquaintance with the shadow of doubt
who leans closer to whisper in the afternoon
to suggest it’s time to prepare a dinner of fatted sloth
and the recipe falls to mind step by step
beginning with a slow heat to render the fat
before stewing the meat in the amalgam of ingredients
that simmer into a singular tastelessness
I eat my fill directly from the pot in front of the TV
watching I think some game show where luck
decides whether someone wins or loses today
No comments:
Post a Comment