Tuesday, April 24, 2007
this one really snuck up on me
and yesterday I realized I had barely 24 hours to write a new one. hell, Jack Bauer can save the free world in less time than that, if you deduct for the commercial breaks. which brings us to today:
numbered primal, one per POTUS
kick my heinie through my scrotus
wondering if this is really what it means to be alive
optimistic within reason
for all things there is a season
but unclear which one i’m facing now - to sleep or stoup or strive
with potential i’m exploding
is that kierkegaard i’m quoting
i’ll be finished in a minute - can i have some “me” time please
locked and loaded, laser-guided
i will find it if you hide it
and incite a minor riot when i throw away the keys
no one asks me if i’m legal
emperor’s both nude and regal
streaking past the crenellations till they stick me in an urn
give me light and i’ll reflect it
from the dark side i’ve defected
look away or you’ll be blinded by a genius that can burn
deep fried, half baked, hard boiled
in these fields i have toiled
till exhausted fingers falter and i drop my pedigree
let it lie where it has landed
it’s more perfect than i planned it
but for now that must suffice us for today i’m 43!
have a good one, people. somebody should.