Some Days I Don’t Give a Damn
I’ve been good
And eaten what was green and good,
But never touched the deep hunger
And made me dwell on food until
I finally ate a chewy chocolate chip
That ripped that craving right off the wall .
I read a best seller that
Called to me, just as wet paint calls
An itchy finger, then cursed as I wiped it off
And wish someone had put a sign
On that book that read, bestseller my ass.
I got my exercise. I skipped
My lunch for it. My knees ache
And creak like an old rocker.
My stomach says to me, I told you so.
The knees beg me to buy a motorcycle,
Ride it like a demon on bicycle trails
And scare the crap out of the arrogantly
Young with legs and muscles of iron.
Instead, I’ll buy a bucket of
French vanilla at the organic store
For the eternally thin, and decorate a
Ceramic bowl of it with dark shavings
From a hard chocolate bar and
Healthy nuts to prove I’m not all bad,
And sweetened whip cream to prove
I can be. It’s an edible work of art,
Abstractly delicious and fattening for
A good cause that donates proceeds to
Starving children in a land where ice cream
Does not grow.
And I like the taste, but I shouldn’t,
But I do.
Later on I’ll think deep and hard and
Solve no problems and give advice
To no one. And go for another walk
To atone for the ice cream, and carry
An old lady’s brown paper grocery sack
To her car and stay the hell out of her way
When she forgets I’m there and backs up.
I’d do more, but some days I just
Don't’ give a damn.