Friday, April 09, 2004

Thank goodness its Friday. There's nothing like Friday. I'm reminded of the timeless classic Doing It To Death by one Mr. James Brown. This song makes me think of Friday like no other song does. I'd print out the lyrics, but like all good James Brown songs, the lyrics have nothing to do with the name or the song. He was just trying to take us higher. Yep. Anyway, I wrote (again?) a poem (another one?) and so here goes.

Quality time wasted on this couch,
deep fried brain under tubed glass.
Straighten up or you'll have a permanant slouch
life moves way too fast.
Chopped liver onions and kraut,
my frozen dinner is chilly and cold
but when it finally thaws out
I'll eat it just to feel old.
Coca cola peanuts and crown
wash away my feelings of denial.
I can't swim or try so I drown.
don't be sympathetic and don't smile.
I'm not a poet, I'm not a sage.
I've got no wisdom, I've got no muse
Didn't think I'd make it to this age.
But now what can I lose?
A little picture stays tucked away
a special promise I made to me.
I'll break it again someday,
but now we'll have to wait and see.
My mood?

That's my virtual model. . .

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