Silly Poem Because I Have To
I’m losing it! I’m losing it!
The coaster clanks its way
to the first drop and I can’t jump.
My therapist advises:
“Maximum participation. Minimum involvement.”
What does he know?
Decades of school and tolerating stiffs
like me — what — makes him Gandhi
rooming with Aristotle and Twain?
I don’t care! I don’t care!
The cats stride the tables,
rule the counters and chairs.
I well tears at a meow, like a sap —
I cry over road-kill, for Christ’s sake!
Did you hear me?
There is not much time left —
they are closing the park and Momma
calls me home in the sunset air.
I’m falling! I’m falling!
It is fun — like terminal velocity
My family is silly — we play with toys
and toy with words — the highest marks
earned by the juiciest fart joke.
This is not a poem, this is a life
in sloppy hand-script and poor diction.
This is a shout for no good reason.