Okay, I have one last poem to post before I start gathering them all up into an eBook and charging everyone for them. First book will be called two dozen roses.
Selling poetry seems so tacky but what’s the alternative?
Because money doesn’t care, and I am forced to bow down to its tyranny. We all are.
Money for clothes, money for food, money for vehicles to make you more money.
Money changes everything. I love that song by Cyndi Lauper.
I have it in my playlist “The Pussy Strikes Back” along with a lot of Linda Ronstadt.
NOTE: I initially posted the wrong video. This is the correct one.
Also, what I’ll be doing this week while my house and my mind are free from the blessed burden of enduring my daughter’s angsty adolescence: cleaning and organizing!
I know that sounds mundane or just simply off but I love setting my personal space right.
And so, blessed be, go with God, bien viaje, happy travels, etc.
I used to ask: why a penguin?
but now I think I know.
nothing to do with the South Pole,
Antarctic or the snow.
soldiers all have their own lingo;
they need it to keep sane.
forgive me, dear, as I pry deep
and deeper in your vein.
this comes from England R-A-F:
the penguin’s just a guy
who isn’t there yet, but will be.
all flap, but not yet fly.