Drawn on my years of observation of how my spouse has perfected this artful undertaking, viz.:
“Do not rush me, Time!
I need you to slow down
right now on the dime!
Just pulling on my gown!”
“I need you to wait!”
Her cheeks all flush
“I’m lavishly late
in frantic rush!”
By now Perfected Exit
after starting out slow
builds momentum til hectic
Now that’s a fire works show!
Steadily recurring drama
mere minutes til dressed from pajama
While to others would cause trauma
mere swift smooth routine for Grande Mama!
Plays out like a scorcher
with dashing deporture.
+)
-deporture = deportment: demeanor; conduct
-Time = to others inexorable while to my spouse time ought to instantly expand or contract perfectly synchronized to her shifting needs. Now that can’t be too much to ask for, can it?!
Twisted like acrobatic acts
to engineer outcomes perverted
opinions offered up as facts
then glibly, haughtily asserted
On recklessness binged
in forward pose
pours on claims unhinged
anything goes!
These days seem veracity
as well as morality
eclipsed by mendacity
in foam bath banality
In times erstwhile weren’t we restrained
by facts as being impregnable?
Perhaps too old to be retrained
for when few norms are detectable
Now floating away dazzled
from Reality’s shores
we’re too creaky & frazzled
to keep pulling the oars
Thus on waves of distraction we’re drifting
when did we last do something uplifting?
+)
facts = “Factual evidence, since it is an impediment to what we desire, is banished” – Chris Hedges
edited 08/15/24 1730