Vocational Rehabilitation


I don’t discount the grouch in each of us,
I’ll share the troubles I’ve got along with yours,
My lot has lost me kith and left me bust,
And scar my face and punch my gut with force,

I turned my inner eye to see my path,
And where it led was nowhere one should go,
I’ve tried to turn my way to miss that sad,
Result that leaves me naked on the road,

And something new (for me at least) arrived,
A helpful nudge from interested folk,
Suggesting something gives me extra tries,
Vocation rehabilitating work,

I’ve had one meet so far that gets me set,
I’ll duly chronicle what happens next.


Writing About ADD


I don’t know what to write,
Isn’t that the point of this?
Going on exposing this?
A scatter brained disease.

I come upon a word,
That makes me turn around a bit,
Before I can get back to sit,
The perfect word, “dis-ease.”

(And then I see the first line above:
Does the emphasis come on “don’t”?
Does the emphasis come on “know”?
And then I heave me a hefty sigh.

Heave Ho!)

This is What I Need


I want these bits of text to be,
A sacred evocation,
The meter is the eldritch sign,
The rhyme, the incantation,
The words spell out the demon name,
That leash the base emotion,
I need these bits of text to seed,
In your imagination.


Time is constricted,
The more I insisted,
I type,

Nothing is listed,
No day is wasted,

I’m in a tizzy,
Just a bit busy,
To write.