I rose from deep sleep much too fast one night
and, oh, boy howdy, did it cause a plight!
My brain was rearranged to shape much strife
by becoming my bratty pal for life.
If you live with low blood pressure, hear, please,
my advice: perform a tight bladder squeeze,
place feet on floor and pause before standing.
This prevents a ceramic tile landing,
many questions concerning your hurt brain
and sharing, 'my bladder needed drained.'
Aged and mellowed, golden whiskey in a wide mouth Mason jar.
Poured over sweet rock candy, was the guaranteed cure,
of ticklish throats; sprained ankles; hair loss; hang nails and more.
Always kept on hand, for times of desperate need,
of which Grandpa had a profound proclivity for.
No glass nor tablespoon was needed to dispense this elixir.
Just twist the ring, pop the lid, up end the jar and let it slide
down your parched throat..ummm, I mean, soar throat.
I remember well, my first bout with laryngitis at the age of seven.
Grandpa hurried off, to get the magical jar of homemade "Cure".
Minutes later, he came in, carrying the jar like a precious jewel.
Pouring some of that honey hued nectar into a large serving spoon.
Tasting it first, making sure it hadn't gone bad, of course.
Then he slipped the spoon edge between my lips.
Boy-howdy, my eyes watered, I coughed for a spell.
Then slept like a baby.
Entry for: The Road To Well Ville
Hostess: Deborah Guzzi
Placement: 6th
Yeah –
I
thought about it
I
Looked at all those pills
in their precise, pristine,
plastic bottle & yeah,
I thought about it
I
looked at the shimmering,
silky, shining straight-edge razor and
I
thought
about
it
I
looked at my wrists and yeah,
I thought about it!
~~~
I thought
about it
& then I
cradled the silent silver
seductive steel barrel of the
firearm in my hand
And boy howdy did I
think about it
~~~
But, now all in all,
now, just as always,
it was (l)on(e)ly
and simply a thought
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