A Poem For The Peoples Of The World
The flickering of our charm inexorably descends into the darkness of our ridiculousness. And beauty in any form fashion, type or of the heart, remains mostly to torture the soul in our disappointment. Perhaps, we are...No, Strike that.... Perhaps I am walking the plank on devil's piers. Hello Gorgeous
Room Cleaning Day
I'm cleaning my room today. That is my bedroom, as I don't want to give you the impression I live in one room. I actually have two rooms, my bedroom AND my living room. But the bedroom is where I live, and the living room (where there is more stuff!) is my walk-through. Cleaning is both a cleansing and dirtying process. Cleansing in that I get a little workout and I find and throw away all my great junk I've often thought about, but never turned the mattress to look for. Who the hell turns mattress', anyway. Other than these spectacular cleaning fits I go on, the only time I turned my mattress was when I could no longer fit my butt around the coil that's been springing from it for the last few years. And dirtying, since I am such a slob, I foul myself with things I long ago forgot I lost. I found five spoons under my mattress. Since I don't eat under my mattress and the spoons can't eat without me, how they traversed from top to bottom will remain a mystery. Sure there are crumbs there. But that's part of the underbelly of mattress life. Crumbs migrating, I understand. Spoons, no. May God forgive me, but I found a bug. He was in a corner of the room I haven't visited lately, so what he was doing there (dead) is a question. There was nothing to eat. You'd think that if five spoons can get what must be five or six miles (in spoon measure) from the top of my mattress to the bottom, a once live bug could scarf out those same crumbs. Maybe he was just too stupid. He died for his dopiness. Too bad for him. Good for me. I really should give serious and careful thought to at some point in the future, after deliberating the subject, and considering the alternatives, to stop eating in my bedroom. It ain't such a good idea. And I've been lucky so far. I would hate to wake up one morning sharing my bed with a rat, who having been told of the good eats under Joe's bed, instead is contenting himself with suckling at my teat for nourishment. Well, back to cleaning! Joe
