Just drop my order.
Drop and go.
Don’t call my cell.
Don’t let me know.
I have the app.
Know where you’ve been.
Know when you missed
My house again.
I get text alerts
As you approach.
I know where you are.
Don’t need a coach.
Don’t knock the door.
Don’t ring the bell.
It makes my dogs
Bark loud as hell.
Wear a mask.
You’re on my Ring.
I see your face.
I see everything.
Just drop my order.
Drop and go.
That’s your job.
All you need to know.
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.
When Woman has a bad day,
Man hears about it.
Loud and long.
Man finds this stressful.
Stress is bad.
When Man has a bad day,
Women hear about it.
Loud and not so long.
Woman should find this stressful.
Instead, Man is then asked,
“Why are you blaming this on me?“
So, now, Man has work stress.
Also, he owes Woman an apology
For the crime of attempted stress.
Man must apologizing to Woman
For something Woman does to Man.
Man does not know how to apologize.
Man does not understand the issue.
This is extremely stressful.
Double stress is really bad.
Man drops dead of stress.
Woman says, “He was so young.”
Woman takes a cruise to relax.
She throws Man’s ashes overboard.
No more stress.
Woman has a bad day.
She goes shopping
With her inheritance.
Finds some goodies.
No more stress.
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.
I would write about Kyndryl
Like many analysts now will.
But it’s just too stupid a name.
I assume a Millennial committee
In some overcrowded city
Took months to create this stupid name.
Some marketing manager said,
“Alas, the old IBM is dead!”
“Just don’t buy a vowel.”
As a new corporate name.
I find it quite inane.
And it fights Amazon and Google.
A division that was once vaunted
But at last no longer wanted.
Why not just name it “Ginny”?
Mommy cut my hair today.
Most of it just went away.
I mean, she trimed me lots and lots.
I’m glad I like my new bald spots.
I saw my brother filled with dread,
He forgot that he can shed.
He never gets a Mommy trim,
He’s never sliced from limb to limb.
You know, Dad’s looking a bit shaggy.
His sideburns are just a little scraggy.
I think he’s hiding from my Mom.
Next time, I think I’ll go along.