Observations Of A Diminishing Return

My hair’s ok, but my timeline

is receding…..

I dress as a clown and all people 

notice are my clothes…

I remember I read a lot of good books…

I can’t remember how I did what I did;

how I survived childhood,

how I drove through Boston in a step van,

how I survived working with criminals,

how I went to new cities and started over,

how I helped build four buildings in ten weeks,

how I found my way to Mexico.

Not that it matters, really…as Issa said:

“We all go this way.”

The pressure’s off to be a certain way.

At present, a day is just another day.

“Oh, that fell off too!”

…slapstick deconstruction.

Is that the goal I see, or, just the finish line?

I guess I’m blessed not to worry about the time

I have now or have left.

What’s done is done, so stick a fork 

in me ‘cause I am.  The rest is gravy.