What time is it? Sure as hell ain’t rhyme
time as my be-hind still presses the bunk
while all my junk magnets dust and purpose rust
as I repose In this current woe of a maintenance

But it’s nothing personal this rehearsal of rebound
or requiem. The play is the thing. And this act is certain,
it’s either new arc or curtains, so it’s time to stop jerkin’
and get on with the show.

(Insert bow taking here)


I’m spry yet retired. I reside in the inner city of a major metropolitan area of the United States. I read politics. I watch baseball. I hum along with the tune. I June swoon, and moon the bad poem. Post here, are old and new. Opinions are my very own, except when wrong.

Add comment

You Know You Want To Opine

Subjects Matter

last legs 4

sharing marginalia of the moment
with poesy pretensions on parade–
for over a decade


r.douglas & Snz

Timely Post Here

%d bloggers like this: