If you see fewer posts. . .

it's because I don't post much anymore. This may change at any time. But PLEASE feel free to look through our Flickr stream (over on the right), which is updated almost every day.

Monday, August 04, 2008

teteering. . .ODing. . .sneezing

A poem

Tonight I shuffle through the house
Nose dripping throat itching jaw aching
Can you grind your gums?
I do that.

Washing the dollar store camping gear
I avoid wetting the bandage
covering the cut I received last night
washing the more expensive Kitchenaid food processing blades.

Alanis Morrisette might say that was ironic.
She'd be wrong again.

My job half assed, I open the refrigerator door
and crane my neck inside for a can of Coke
to go with my rum.
I do not find one.

Trundle into the bathroom to blow my nose
on toilet paper -- we ran out of Kleenex.
Or tissue some of the kids in Green Bay might say,
whose parents worked for the other place.
That's a joke you don't get.
Unless you also get the jokes about Thomas Monfils, too.

Wander back into the kitchen, grab a glass and decide
to quench my sickened form with a tall glass of juice
Fresh squeezed this morning from the can.
Lifting it to my lips, I decide to grab a few children vitamins, too.

Screw it. Might as well OD on riboflavin.