poem

Funny, Not FunnySometimes it ' s hard to laughCheeks heavy with QuikreteToo much of a liftI ‘ve read all the psychologistsThere are only four valid reasons for anxiety:Not knowing what is about to happen.Fear that performance won ' t match expectation.Three, that you ’ll be seen as you really are:A fool, incompetent, boring, a dork.And four, realizing that the only certainty is your own uncertaintyAbout anything, anyone, ever againAt least you won ’t be able to doubt that You ' re done with funnyIt ’s not even worth mourningYou ’ve entered your spaced outLunar eclipsed nihilist goth phase The sunflowers in the trashLook like sleeping witchesI should spend more time in the garageSo much of my lifeI simply am not awakeIn the unlikely event I actually rouseMyself from deep slumber It never lastsSandcastles at high tideThis cube of sugar in my extremely hot teaAm I breaking any new groundHere or am I just, finally, seeingWhat everyone elseHas been seeing all along?On the way out of the groceryWith a haul of freshly pressed shirtsSlung over my shoulder like I ’m Ward Cleaver I notice a young man buying flowersWith an anxious grin on his damned face.(The goof, as if she wouldn ’t like them)So, sure enough, there I am, stuck In the floral line with a bouquet of garish bellflowersHours away from turning into baby Gargoyles who will require frequent naps As I ’m leaving I pass an old guyWith a face like hydrangeasHe looks at me, sees ...
Source: Buckeye Surgeon - Category: Surgery Authors: Source Type: blogs