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.
Keep on streaming your inner crazy thoughts. Forget the old ladies and forget the ice cream, so you may live a long time.
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