March 5, 2019

I deal with them all everyday:

The smug,

The lying,

The clueless,

The whining.

Each occupy space,

Each consume time,

Each take a chunk of my body as offered.

Each manage to drive away

With barely a shrug,

Hardly even trying,

Any completion of a to-do list,

Any fucking silver lining.

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I could leave a mark on all today:

Smarmy thank you note,

Off-the-handle tirade,

A public call out,

A trap so easily made.

Each requires diplomacy,

Each commands sense,

Each takes my spirit as proffered.

So much I am never going to say

With gleeful gloat,

Disdain clearly displayed,

Regardless of fall out,

Enjoying every card played.

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I'm left with the poesy I make:

Cheap little rhymes,

Clumsy turns of phrase,

Ugly allusions,

And tired old tropes.

Each brings some sense of satisfaction,

Each helps me sleep at night.

Never fear my loss of voice

In the rubbish of my ache:

For in good times,

Wonderful retirement days,

A Dam'll burst this occlusion,

Pour forth on these misanthropes.