Spaghetti hits the fan,
Whatever goes wrong–can…
Letting things slide
Like suicide,
Leaves very little planned.
–
Brought it all on his head,
The wife’s got her own head…
Why try
Tired of the strive,
He wants to go back to bed.
–
Blames himself he’s isolated,
No confidant located…
But those for hire–
Credit’s expired–
In fewer discussions he’s participated!
–
Why anyone would stay,
He wants to hide away…
Have to muddle through–
Make an attempt to–
Would anyone pray?
–
–Jonathan Caswell
GETTING COLD IN HERE!
–
Pecking here so long,**
My initial warmth is gone…
The keyboard “says”
Let’s go our ways
And be back in bed before long1
–
–Jonathan Caswell
“Pecking”** as on a keyboard with two or so fingers to “type’ with!
CREATIVE SCHEDULING
–
The Poet awakes around six
To get in his blogging fix…
And then it’s said,
He goes back to bed,
And that’s how he gets his kicks!
–
–Jonathan Caswell
DRIVING TOMORROW!
He’s going back to bed,
Can’t have a foggy head…
Sallying forth
In a drive to the north,
To his wife’s appointment, he said!
–Jonathan Caswell
By the Mighty Mumford 