I am not Chernobyl.
Not Three Mile Island.
I am not about to have a meltdown.
That steam coming out of my ears? That?
Just me letting some of the pressure out.
That growl?
Don’t worry. It’s worse than its bite.
That string of expletives I’m about to utter?
Just my inner Tourette’s airing its dirty laundry.
. A meltdowm? Nah. Now what is it you’ve been trying to tell me?
*pic courtesy of Pinterest
You say
I am a mole
when I write
burrowing
down
to my tunnel
with the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign
on the door;
but I say
I know
no other way
that when I’m done
I emerge
into the light
tiny eyes
blinking
Someone once said to me, Expect the Unexpected.
It seemed daring at the time so I took it on board.
The only problem was because I expected the Unexpected all the time I wasn’t really surprised when it happened.
It was expected right?
Life was losing its surprise factor.
I felt heavy as a bag of cement.
My counsellor suggested — wait for it — Expect the Expected.
So I do,
When the Unexpected happens I light up.
I’m happy,
I was talking to our Hobbo the other day about scratching posts and whether his black Labrador, Dauphy had one and Hobbo retorted, no, but he has a snoring spot.
And I thought: that’s the difference between cats and dogs. Cats have scratching posts, dogs don’t. It seems a little discriminatory.
Cats can work off their frustrations on a post. What’s a dog supposed to do? Max, my granddaughter’s dog, had the answer. Whenever he got frustrated, he would hump his mattress. Not an edifying sight, but it worked for Max.
He was placid as a puddle after that.
Maybe that’s the answer for human beans too. Instead of walloping walls, pummeling pillows or brawling with our besties, we could simply hump our mattress. Or find a snoring spot.
I’m jealous of the scratching post.
Whenever she comes inside, cranky from some failed endeavour or an altercation with the crows and attacks the scratching post with feline ferocity like the slasher to the shower curtain in ‘Pyscho’, I’m envious.
It sure beats walloping the wall and pummeling the pillow when things get fractious or ululating expletives to the night sky.
Is it too much to ask: a scratching post for Xmas? Man-sized , of course.
No more flannelette shirts now it’s November.
No more slippers, dressing gowns, they’re old men’s clothes.
No more ‘Married At First Sight’ or ‘Farmer Wants a Wife’
Real men don’t watch those.
And when you pull up at a red light, no more picking ….
Please, please, I say, no more no-no’s!
Before you
I always laughed at cartoons
alone,
was astonished before paintings & poems
privately;
but now I pass the magazine to you,
the one with the crazy cartoons.
Look at this, I say, & you do and smiles
span our faces & rumble our bellies
like little laughing Buddhas;
Trouble shared is trouble halved,
my mother used to say — but Joy
works inversely:
It is doubled when shared with another.
*pic courtesy of Pinterest by John Currin
There’s a cobweb on the rear view mirror
of my car,
the outside one so it’s a little mussed up
as you’d expect
in all that turbulence.
A new one goes up every second or third day.
I don’t know what he catches in it
except the past..
Like a passenger facing the wrong way
on a long distance train
he only sees where he’s been.
Maybe there’s a value in that:.
looking back.
A little nostalgia does no harm.
In fact we revel in it:
costume dramas, westerns like ‘Yellowstone’,
origin stories of super heroes,
biopics,
the little cobwebs studios weave
to hold our interest.
There was a saying in my parents’ day
not to upset the apple cart.
My uncle was a market gardener so it had extra meaning for us.
For a while things went smoothly
then I came along, then my sister.
We were the world’s first teenagers.
There was sex, booze — no drugs — and rock ‘n’ roll.
Mum and dad didn’t know what hit them.
And this went on all over the world.
A whole lot of apple carts were being upset, overturned.
Then came Feminism, Vietnam War protests, R rated movies
and in our country
the sacking of a government.
Boats were rocked, apple carts overturned.
It’s a bit like that now. Only there’s far more involved.
The fate of our planet.
I think before we get to wherever we’re going there won’t be too many
apple carts left standing.
*pic courtesy of Pinterest
John Malone 