Life’s Little Misdirections 🥀🦋

Worldwide Birdbox

Pale mother always echoed the adage
about not having anything good to say, say
nothing at all. Slow to comprehend, it gnawed
before my soft teeth chewed that. Tasted like
apathy, indifference, mixed as knowing wisdom.
Moreover, my red father defied, steaming
in cliche quip about squeaking as a wheel,
needing lubricant oil. Mom, how will they know
dissatisfaction, bound to repeat error uncorrected?
Dad, you always roared like a toothsome beast.
Yell too much, not their concern when hard
to please. Ask mother. In fact, both of you
should have consulted the other,

without citing tired, brain numbing,
boiled down thought that is supposed
to leave no room for argument, discourse.
Furthermore, you should meet my kids,
boasting bright memes and viral videos
that capture their ever simplifying heads.
Every word from my mouth redacted,
as if I’ve bumbled like tumbleweed
through a town called life, their residence.
No barn wall rules to re-order, since
we all cool, or rage, then chill.
Clocking out, lock in with Monster, buzz
the skill of video games or grease-thumb
that necessary cell on our ‘family plan.’
Like lawyers on my retainer, represent
themselves.

                   Don’t test this PC world,
been played. Is that gas I smell being lit?
I step away, glare in wonder how we knew
1984 was prophesied. Now, head-bagged,
babbling latest trends, where/what to eat,
Google cheap fuel prices. Pondering
savings — just for me, devalued by inflation,
how to s t r e t c h dollars? Waste like you?
Disordered, lawn to mow, trash to curb,
cat puked again, not my dishes pile in sink.
What street furthest from all can absorb
oil-painted, Edvard Munch trapped screams,
unable to utter in a worldwide bird box?

Squeak like a mouse, or be mum, mom,
dad. Hmm, maybe nothing changed. Nope,
I’m definitely getting a whole, other vibe.

I felt a large scream pass through nature

6.30.22

Disclaimer: I have not seen Bullock’s movie…think I get the gist. The rest of my rambling is experience, getting to know myself, past to present with behavioral therapy and money management. Goodbye little cottage on a lake. Poof!

Grand Finale, we’ll say for:
"The Bard's Hall Contest"