I hate my job.
I hate my wife.
I hate my dogs.
I hate my life.
I need something
To set me free.
I need good drugs.
I need … coffee.
Coffee saved my life today.
Caffeine in a paper cup.
Cream and sugar.
My spirits raised up.
My job is great.
My wife is tanned.
My dogs are fun.
My life is grand.
Mom calls me Dammit.
Dammit is my sister, too.
We annoy our Mom.
I woke up this morning.
Blind Faith was playing in my head.
That was a good start.
I may be old, but I’m still not dead.
I couldn’t remember the rest of the song.
Just one line stuck, because the singing’s sublime.
I hadn’t had coffee, but also, I’m old.
“When I’m near the end and I just ain’t got the time”
It’s “Can’t Find My Way Home”.
Thank you, Steve Winwood.
(Thank you Wikipedia for reminding me.)
It’s melancholy but it’s so good.
The only problem with the song
Is the stuck line that he penned.
There are better ways to start a birthday
Than by repeating “near the end.”
This is the last day of the Big 6-0.
A year that sucked from head to toe.
I broke my ankle and my foot.
Then COVID made us all stay put.
I left the house to see the surgeon.
Otherwise home, a vestal virgin.
The most excitement we had seen?
The line to get our new vaccine.
The year couldn’t have been much worse,
But at least I avoided riding in a hearse.
Late is the hour.
My mind clogged with empty thoughts.
Last minute poem.
Spicy fried chicken.
A breast, leg and thigh.
Mashed potatoes,
A fried apple pie.
Triple bacon burger,
Double cheese.
A large side of fries.
My heart won’t seize.
Chicago pizza.
That thick, thick crust.
Extra sausage.
It’s a must.
At last a drink,
So I don’t choke.
I’ll wash it down
With Diet Coke.
Time flying quickly.
Resting, recharging, peaceful.
Time to take a nap.
Katie is a lovely dog
She knows that she is mine.
She only has one tiny fault.
She cannot tell the time.
Katie knows that dinner time
Is every night at seven.
So, she starts her dinner whine
At six-ten or six-eleven.
Sometimes, this will work.
I will feed them early.
Katie learned that dinner time
Arrives some nights prematurely.
Katie knows that dinner time
Is every night at six-fifteen
So, she starts her dinner whine
At five-thirty, six or in-between.
Once the whining has commenced,
She never tends to drop it.
Only puppy food in quantity
Seems to make her stop it.
Katie knows that dinner time
Is sometime after four.
So, she starts her dinner whine
Sometime the day before.
The one part of my dear Kate
That never needs explaining.
She only has two speeds in life,
Sound asleep and loud complaining.
Notes from the author: Woke up this morning, having trouble breathing. Looked up to check the time, and my projection clock was out. That’s when I realized my breathing issues were because my CPAP was not running. Took off my mask, and watched as the ceiling fan spun slowly to a stop. The power is out again.
Warmness engulfs me.
Ceiling fans no longer run.
Power out again.
Bleeding quietly.
I was shaving in the dark.
Blades of danger.
Messages flowing.
Oncor status emails sent.
Email needs Internet.
Living in darkness.
My world is in the shadows.
I am powerless.
I want to sail the ocean blue.
The open waves that we once knew.
Alone at last and feeling free.
I can’t, because the CDC.
Wuhan has some poison labs.
WHO first blamed the bat kebabs.
But the CDC has some key tips.
Disease is caused by cruising ships.
Unfiltered Thoughts 