Cona Adams Poet Narrative

Like a Hare, Caught In a Trap

I'm no good at setting clocks,
don't enjoy sending faxes
but if you'll bring your info,
I'll calculate your taxes.

I scream at my computer,
could take a hammer to it
but give me a tax problem,
I'll work my way through it.

Can't program my cell phone,
don't even want to bother.
I'm busy doing tax returns
for everyone's big brother.

Kids’ve joined the work force,
brought me their W-2's
wanting all their money back,
"Mom, see what you can do."

Now they own businesses
I'm preparing Schedule C's.
I want out of this trap,
I'm dying by degrees.

Grandkids’re growing fast,
beginning to earn dough,
and Grandma's growing old,
lazy, decrepit, and slow.

cfa ? 3/14/2010

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