Tuesday, February 5, 2019
BREAKFAST TIME IN AMERICA
Corn flakes get so soggy
so fast
not like grape nuts
which will hold up for a while.
So be quick with your flakes
and let your nuts soak a while.
Do you miss any of the houses
you used to live in?
Or any of the mouses
that stayed there with you?
Or did you just methodically murder them?
Order.
Chaos.
You want fries with that?
The fakers and the fakirs come and go
charming your snake for a while
until someone yells:
Put that thing down!
What will be your saving grace
a la Steve Miller in a psychedelic haze,
and if you only save face
by saying grace
will that be enough for you?
Life is a game
pick a struggle
take a side
or just sit in the stands
drink beer
and shout obscenities.
To work on the work
is all there is left.
And all that matters.
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Yeppers. Those last three lines.
ReplyDeleteThank you. Poets find solace in their work...if nothing else, eh?
DeleteAh, such thoughts rather bring about a despairing mood. Your words are rooted in your experiences and learning in life — taking from that, these wisecracks are charming and thought-provoking.
ReplyDeleteDo not despair, my friend, unless you are prepared to laugh in the same breath! Such is life.
DeleteOh Tim, you are singing my song, and in your usual fashion, you entertain me hugely as you do. Susan's prompt at Midweek Motif tomorrow (Poets United) is Zero Tolerance. It seems to me this poem leans in that direction........picking a struggle, taking a side, doing the work. Bravo! I love it!
ReplyDeleteThank you, Sherry! You always give me a lot to chew on!
DeleteFriend Tim, you sound more and more like German poet Erich Kaestner … I used to read him at nauseum, literally … Love, cat.
ReplyDeleteYes, I will read a little bit more of him to see if he actually sounds like ME!
DeleteOh, I'm so with you on that final verse.
ReplyDeleteI know you understand, Rosemary.
Delete...this thing we do/ this poetry/ becomes our only salvation...
Yes, you final lines are what keeps me from going ugly crazy. My therapist asked me if I kept a journal. I told her it is my poetry.
ReplyDeletePoetry is a journal of events as they didn't necessarily happen, but might have happened...could have happened...or maybe they just happened in my head--lol
DeleteMy favorite line is 'order, chaos, you want fries with that.' I'm sorry to say I did murder the mouse.
ReplyDeleteYou caught that line! I didn't know if anybody would get it.
DeleteI feel like I've been beaten with a blunt object yet am entertained. What does that say about me? The last bit, 60 years and counting to get to that place. Why couldn't I have saved myself a lot of trouble and just gotten there? Oh, nothing to write about then. lol Cheers!
ReplyDeleteI know what you mean. I sense a kindred spirit here!
DeleteGood observation that we might have done something different with those mice than "Or did you just methodically murder them?"
ReplyDeleteA little compassion never hurts.
DeleteIndeed... it's all that matters.
ReplyDeleteLife in its simplest form.
Deletebreakfast time in America sounds like serious thinking time, let your nuts soak was hilarious I told my kids we need to try that one.
ReplyDeleteOh, you must be a big hit with your kids--lol
Delete