Roger, thanks,
Off times I look just like that.
Then sometimes the hot air just runs out.
John..., never mind the yikes.
I have a open door policy.
Well, ya see, I only close it once your in.
Tribal, I know, but it suits me.
Now about this poetic nonsense.
I have one that I wrote in between hormone surges when I was seventeen.
Wait.... lil expanding first.
Old Geezer and my Mom, and you have to give them credit.
Spent a exorbitant amount of moolah for one of those proper educations.
Bad investment..
You may not think so, but I have theory.
Remember, this was before education was socially acceptable.
But, when you come out of the box reading and really asking straight forward questions, and the neighbors ask,
Is that a toddler, or a midget with a cigar? You can understand their dilemma.
Now about that poem.....
think, it was written in what I would describe as freshman agyanst.
(no that is not misspelled, it comes from Chaucer.)
For your edification.....
THE COUNTERFEIT MIND
A counterfeit mind will cause your devil to be unkind
Towards the nine to five father
That has no time for himself
Sure he trys so hard
to be what he is not
Occasionally remembers the children
he swears he never forgot.
But he is caught in the web
Of the subway commuting dead
One hand clasped a brief case
the other a wrist watch
It breaks his heart.
And as office machines raise all hell
The commotion is pierced
by the noon time bell
only now he has forty five minutes
all to himself
A simple coke and
sabrette adds to his health.
But you know
As five o'clock rolls around
Secretary's leave with out a sound
there are no goodbyes
there are no hellos
it seems they are plastic too
and every one knows.
He picks up the phone
dials the wife
really sorry dear workin late tonight
but
as trees sway with the wind
the veteran from another age
cuddles his bottle of gin
He gives the top
an awkward twist
making it easier to go
where it belongs
drowning out memory's
and ending this song.
Per
Stop, it's thirty something years old
but there you have it.
Per