My Beloved, the Non-Weeble

Editor’s Note: Weebles wobble, but they don’t fall down. So, my wife is not a Weeble. Some people are just accident-prone. I know one of them. She married me. Oy vey. This is in her voice, since that’s the only way it makes sense. You just have to imagine the cries of anguish at the end of each stanza. 

I think I’ll have a glass of tea.
Ouch! I think I sprained my knee.

I was writing out my shopping list,
I stopped because I sprained my wrist.

The list said, “Ribs. At least a rack.”
Wow. I think that I just wrenched my back.

I filed the list in my to-do folder,
But now I may have popped my shoulder.

I turned on the TV and saw Bethenny Frankel,
Then dropped the remote and broke my ankle.

It’s Spring, we should be on a ship,
It’s just I may have strained my hip.

I reached to remove a piece of fluff,
And I think I tore my rotator cuff.

I know it’s time to feed the pup,
It’s just I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.

My husband said, “Hey, let’s get frisky!”
I said, “Oh, my God! That’s much too risky!”

My husband thinks he’s such a clown,
I’d hit him, but I’ve fallen down.

Again.

Fifty-Four

Happy Birthday to you!
Another trip around the sun.
Some trips are annoying,
Some trips are fun.

That’s where they rhyming part ends.
My head hurts and I can’t find
My rhyming dictionary.
So, another crappy birthday poem follows.

My apologies in advance.
I hope it’s not a bore.
I should just say Rocky wrote it,
So people would cry for more.

Sigh. I’m not bitter about that.

Here’s an interesting fact.
If you had walked a mile each day,
Since the day you were born,
That would be 19,710 miles!

Your Fitbit would be very happy.
Also, you would have been walking at birth,
A very impressive feat! (feet?)
So, this is probably hypothetical.

Your Mom probably would have stopped you,
Since you shouldn’t be walking that young.
On the other hand, I’ve met your siblings,
So maybe she would have said, “Bon Voyage!”

Back to the hypothetical walking,
Today, you would be almost 80% of the way
Around the earth (give or take).
Holding your breath across the ocean-y bits.

However, you keep insisting on taking cruise ships.
So, walking around the world is probably out.
Also, you would have ended up back in New York.
Since the world is round-ish.

So, you’re in Dallas, not New York.
You’re a year older, but at least you’re not 55.
It could be worse, because it could always be worse.
Did I mention Rocky wrote this?

Happy Birthday.

Sleep

If I could sleep at night,
As well as I sleep through
These stupid, endless meetings.
I would be well-rested, indeed.

Maybe that’s why meetings are recorded.
You can listen to the playback at bedtime.
Then, you can gently nod off to sleep.

I’m getting sleepy just thinking about it.

Tex-Mex Blues

I love Tex-Mex food.
I would eat it every day.
Rice, beans and nachos,
What else is there to say?

It’s just sometimes,
There is a dramatic effect.
Like a volcano erupting somewhere,
Or a pilot forced to eject.

Today, my wife dragged me shopping.
She bribed me with Tex-Mex first.
We got to the store and I felt rumblings.
It’s not like something was about to burst.

I thought.

So, my colon blew out in WalMart,
I was stranded in the stall.
The guard came to check for theft,
But I hadn’t taken anything at all.

(Well, I took a dump. But, really, I left it. Thank you, George Carlin.)

Aging

We’re falling apart.
From head to toes,
From North to South,

All parts must go.

We’re forgetting things
We used to know.
From basic to complex,
From fast to slow.

There’s other problems,
This was just a little bit.
I had even more problems,
I don’t know where I wrote it.

Furosemide Blues

My doctor found excess water
In my ankles and my feet.
He said, “I have a cure for you,
Here’s a pill that can’t be beat.”

I never used to exercise.
My feet were made of clay.
But now, I take Furosemide.
So, I run around all day.

I’ve located every bathroom,
Between my office and my home.
I’ve panic stopped at most of them.
I’m never far to roam.

I’ve found the shortest distance
To every rest room on my floor.
I know how to avoid the talkers,
I’m not distracted any more.

I’m running more than ever,
From sea to shining sea.
I’ll complete this in a moment,
But first, I have to pee.

Fifty Five

Wine improves with aging,
So does imported cheese.
My life has turned to vinegar,
So, can I stop aging, please?

I wrote a poem at fifty-four,
It wasn’t bad, I think.
But that was a year ago,
Now, I need a drink.

I don’t really feel that old.
Age is all in the mind, I see.
So, I guess I’ll pick a random time,
Let’s say, I’m forty-three.

In spite of all the Facebook posts,
My expression is still stony.
I’ve finally admitted to myself,
I’ll never get a pony.