Taking what life throws at me one pitch at a time
When everything seems superfluous
Nothing could be more succinct
Than a well placed pejorative
To punctuate the current buffoonery
Put on display for the world to see
By the bloated corrupt personification
Of everything that’s wrong with us
“Oh fuddles!” Say I.
“Fuddles!”
Looks like we have currently fallen into a deadfall trap
Set for us by foes with an espionage dead drop tactic
Often used by a certain erstwhile cold war nemesis
Now fully embraced by our corporate overlords
As the only fully recognized and endorsed brotherhood
Wholeheartedly encouraged by our current administration
All of whom are charter and founding members of
The Villains, Thieves, and Scoundrels Union (Local 12)
A moment with this prompt to savour one of my Favourite cartoons
a portmanteau storm of cattywampus
washed up on a sandbox in Catmandu county
feline delectimus défectuepuss
concerning litterbox cattiquette
used by the tigerlilly tabby
with de rigueurpurr felid indifference
for the calicokittykat copycat
resulting in a catastrophic catfrontation
Forsooth hirsute bard
Toot sweet to the barber chair
Mrs. Avery
Says Sylvia's done with your
Dirty scruffy hippie self
Peal like an onion
With each layer stripped away
What was once held dear
Adrift in a maze
Color chaos confusion
Sensation overload
Input puerile diffusion
Perception palpation
Dewey Decimal suffusion
Helping to decrease the daze
Yet never ceasing to amaze
Fond memories of past Easter celebrations with my family, grandma, aunties, uncles, cousins, and neighbors. Entertained in the palatial family home that was built by my carpenter grandpa, who had long passed away by the time of my debut on the family stage. Guests greeted in the foyer which emptied into the parlour, which led to the dining room.
All very posh sounding. The foyer barely big enough to hold a freestanding coat rack which could hold four coats with proper weight distribution. If the front door was open…fugetaboutit. The parlour held a red sofa and two big mismatched chairs. One green. One brown. A round picture tube television in dark brown hard wood cabinet took up the rest of the available footprint. The dining room was packed with a floor standing radio with equally impressive wood cabinetry and a sewing machine in a cabinet built by my cabinetmaker great grandfather. When the table extension leaves were in; the squeeze around the table was tight for the typical middle age bulk of the era. Everyone packed in. Crowd spillage to TV trays in the parlour Teenagers at the kitchen table post preparation pandamonium. Children my age banished to card tables on the enclosed yet still chilly back porch. Talk about a full house. Oh yes, I forgot the salon, which was really the parlour after the feast concluded with it’s inevitable boisterous political crosstalk. Yikes!
Deluxe middle-class living in 1960 U.S.A. It was all in what you named the rooms. So instead of a front closet, front room, and fancy eating room; we had a foyer, parlour / salon, and dining room. Who could ask for more. That’s not even flaunting the carriage house where my grandmother resided.
As a pretender to many things and a product of a misspent youth; Achievement brought to mind a song that I and my garageband friends would play, much to the chagrin of anybody within earshot. Believe me that covered a lot of territory .
Fake it til you make it. A fine mantra. I learned many things playing in that band that served me well in my future achievements. But pretending to be a musician would not continue to be one of those endeavors.
So even covering such quality material, the real achievement was that we all eventually went our own way.
Overwrought ambition
Battles fought
Battles won
Battles that need to be refought
Odds on favorite
Powers balanced
Daring unbalance
Until tipping points tipped
Red lines crisscrossing
Mutually assured destruction
Whistling past the symmetry
All my live long days
