Some Days I Just Don't Give a Damn

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.