The Art of Compromise

A spot on my shirt-cuff a stain on a bathmat In the back closet, a pile of stuff a litter trail leads to the house cat A chip in the mirror in the hall a slight imperfection in the paint on the wall Occasional drip from the bathroom faucet Smoke alarm inoperable, ought to toss it This is where the poet moralizes sensing how quickly former standards slip … Ha! Fooled ya! I now embrace compromise Thanks for reading, pal ~ don’t forget my 25% tip