So yeah, having my car back from a week at the mechanics
just in time to be snowed in on Thanksgiving, is just swell,
Until that great looking new owner showed up with his table saw.
On the porch there is an echo effect that sent my fillings vibrating.
My psychotic, vegetarian daughter ate her squash and mashed potatoes
hidden safely in my warm bedroom and I drank a bottle of Cabernet.
That guy makes Johnny look like my dreamboat today. Counting blessings.
Interviewing a woman accused of texting a man 65,000 times,
breaking into his home and taking a shower, Sure she is crazy.
Yet, the Cancer Support woman who sent me an email
thinks she is a perfect Angel repeatedly judging and justfing
her passive aggressive, See I am always right subliminal messages.
I hope I can just sit across from her at writing group today
and pray that a giant Ant doesn’t try to Help Me like she did.
This is American food he explained.
Cold and terribly, terribly tacky.
Golden arches, golden Candleabras,
a shutdown touchtone.
This is no joke
We are part of his insanity.
The Universe was the backdrop.
It said ” I don’t know what I am doing”,
My comment was brave to admit
when others post photos of their breakfasts
to prove they have their shit together.
Then I thought of the most messed up
breakfast I could picture.
That’s poutine not pootang in case you wondered.
There we were in Monday Writing Group checking in for the week.
She started to speak about the end of the year being busy for filing
the Ambulance reports and then she flew off of the planet completely
talking in Binary Algorithms and paranoid delusional streams of words.
A woman new to the group “Interrupted Her” and asked did you write
all that down? It sounds like you are just talking.
The do gooders at the table turned to the woman
with no boundaries Shhh She can talk.
I thought good for you lady
Speak up for Sanity.
Unfriend Chris,. was a great phone call.
He could talk for hours.
The women loved that on the dating sites.
He was very careful to hide his disdain.
It was his first wife’s fault.
She was a rage-a-holic
He is a sick co dependent.
An Alanon that doesn’t touch a drop.
I’m a suspicious alcoholic.
He never was going to get it together to move back to Albuquerque,
dropping me as a friend for calling Gilda a bitch who abused her
husband endlessly he told me. I had always sensed his women
hating secrets. All his girlfriends were sexually abused by their fathers.
They all were oversexed he said. Hmm. A predator he was.
Every Fourth Thursday the poet laureate will take us
on a writing walk along the Rio Grande Bosque.
The lightening shortened our trek and she asked us
to go home, write a Trite poem to the moon.
You Oh great Cheese One, I howl at your lumenence.
Draw me like the hackneyed ocean waters to your core
Have the cow take a threadbare jump over your orbness.
and inspire every poet to pine for those sterotypical faces
that left town and never sent me a copy of our book.
An acrobatic feat, an adrenaline surge, an inexplicable moment of Grace.
Must hire a bunny to kiss his ass.
We have a make believe POTUS, we
have a dysfunctional government.
Are our children even sleeping at night?
I know I’m not.
I was born on Groundhog’s Day
But my life has become ridiculous.
That’s not a good adjective.
Mind Numbing,
from the constant PTSD.
I sewed a button on my winter coat yesterday.
That was the closest to purposeful I’ve come.
I mailed my mother’s death certificate to
the college she taught at for 40 years.
They owe her!
Ring out the Old, they say.
I say bring on the new, or else.
biochicklet 