Wednesday Poem

Fate hangs by threads
caught in a catch-22.
A misunderstanding between
financial powers that be
are eliminating my dreams.
But, who am I? Just a client.

Fruity booty wild fruit,
cowboy the Wild Irish Rose.
I’m too broke a bee for Jack
My stress is jacked, forget that
Babe, you lost me a while ago.

I have a bulldog fighting
a knight on a white stead,
communication clarification
and finally, a maybe resolution.

I’m singing the doxology
thinking of beading the Rosary.
But, oh my, sweet my, goodbye.

Was that the end?
Praying for extension.

Come on old man,
Can we make amends?
I miss my friend.

I always, always
frickin f****** cared
Blame the voice translator
For the frickin stars.

Be who you are…
And I am me, always me.
Still the same old me,
Fallible as can be.
I miss you, RJD.

Sweet Mother of Rose,
Thursday morning brings
complications to everything.
So I talk to walls and dead cats.
Come on babe, relax…
before you give yourself a stroke.

N.2016

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