You Gotta Do What You Can
I cannot sit still,
not right now my friend, fuzzy
logic anyhow.
I have wrestled that
to the mat more than one time
but my knees freak out
and my back. My head
hurts from the hot spite I spend
trying to balance
so much clotted oil
girding my spiny red soul,
which blurts, "Whatever,
Dude!"
written March 14, 2012 9:08 PM
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The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.