Years ago, when men wore hats
And women heels instead of flats,
Who knew unsaturated fats
Were somehow kind of healthy?
When TV’s were in black and white
And folks dressed up before a flight,
Who knew that every deep-fried bite
Would need us to be stealthy?
When ice cream cones cost 15 cents
And pronouns didn’t cause offense,
Who knew with rules some could dispense
And wind up smug and wealthy?
Saltine crackers have become my worst enemy
Add that to my rapidly-growing list of “do-not-eats”
Along with many common foods I considered treats
Salt, sugar, and fats, in general, are my archenemy.
Sorry, Barbara Bush,* you did not heed good advice
And lived it up with salty carbs and unsaturated fat,
Because you let your doctor’s warnings fall flat
In your final days, you paid the ultimate price.
The symptoms are clear and very easy to discern
Swollen ankles, fatigue, and difficulty breathing
You suffer a general malaise which is not so pleasing
Taking Lasiks intravenously is something you learn.
I will miss, most of all, those tasty strips of bacon
Forever forbidden along with salty potato chips
No more adding salt to the food passing my lips
Adding restrictions to the handfuls of meds I’m takin’.
It is not so bad, after all, [I am training myself to think]
Following some simple directions about what I eat
I can still have vegetables and some delicious red meat
It is so much better than living life right up to the brink.
[*a nod to First Lady Barbara Bush, who died of
Congestive Heart Failure at the ripe old age of 92!]
Written June 1, 2021
having a pleasant and distinctive smell.
"a massage with aromatic oils"
synonyms:
fragrant · scented · sweet-scented · sweet-smelling · perfumed · [more]
chemistry
(of an organic compound) containing a planar unsaturated ring of atoms that is stabilized by an interaction of the bonds forming the ring. Such compounds are typified by benzene and its derivatives.Compare with alicyclic.
Instead of us raising a lot of static,
God said we would try new tactic;
Poems review;
Great we knew;
Add appeal with things aromatic.
Jim Horn
The faded vibrancy of your smile
Through the exposure we set
Knocks the breath right from my chest
Life through the viewfinder keeps focusing on you
Unsaturated love turning shades of grey
I'm still adjusting to the light
of a life with you nowhere in sight
If heaven were real,
We wouldn’t have third eyes;
We would have eyes that never closed
To see what was never plainly exposed.
If heaven were real, we wouldn’t have love;
We would have lukewarm touch,
Unsaturated veins.
We would get bored of storms and the end that came;
And I would drown waiting outside your gate.
If heaven were real,
You would look me straight in the eye
And realize that it was always me;
You’d see what all along I'd seen.
If heaven were real,
I would scare you every night with my quivering;
You would sigh at my lips upon your head.
If heaven were real, then god is dead.
But everything else is still the same,
All the angels salt out of the sky in vain,
As I sit on the pavement in a fit of rain.
If heaven were real,
Then who am I supposed to blame?
And how could I have made the mistake,
Of falling in love with that look on your face?
My dearest, if heaven were real—
I sure as hell would know my place.
I can’t help by slip and fall
As I watch the cognate shudder
But the top of this link is indeed tall
Who cares, when for some reason it was smoothened?
On purpose, to test my stamping gait
As I watch the cognate appear to soothe
The pain of the cognizance of being bait
How stinky the façade, the affected smiles and winks
Which choke me and aggravate my ataxia
As I watch the cognate, I think of my kink
The kink I made myself with no anesthesia
For as saturation is no good without bending
It is nice to be unsaturated; just a little bending
As I watch the cognate curl the sarcasms in wits
I cannot agree less, I haven’t been more than a dimwit
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