I’m in hiding From sliding into self-pity And I’d poem about spring If Chicago had a spring Or even an Eastertide Which I ride until the solstice
buttressed by a birthday That doctors are projecting is A drop dead due date In an ironic iconic tick tock surrender
Oh….. what the hell…forswear!
here’s a bit of a beat
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Published by r.Douglas
I’m spry yet retired. I reside in the inner city of a major metropolitan area of the United States. I read politics. I watch baseball. I hum along with the tune. I June swoon, and moon the bad poem. Post here, are old and new. Opinions are my very own, except when wrong.
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You’re going to live forever in my head, Doug. Forever. 🙏🏾🩵
power in that and a good place to reside!
irony its own stronghold