Orange Juice

I’ll get a pizza later.

Depression, fear of death, actually.

Probably shouldn’t write anymore.

No energy for it anyway.

You ever have a day like that?

I hope I don’t have many more.

I need help, ayuda, succor,

the desperation of a drowning man,

only words go out to nowhere,

lost in the general din.

Funny, even that feeling has lessened.

“Even my sadness perhaps has changed,

as if I were not my own,

forgotten, even by me.” Quasimodo 

I’ve thought it through, I’ll take a day or two,

let the dust settle and look around before I

jump ship, hit the road, Jack, take a powder,

wander into unknown territory like a veritable 

babe in the woods of Armageddon.

I keep thinking of other oldsters in America,

the incredible shrinking dollar, eating cat food,

all the possibilities involved with a world in turmoil,

involving everyone, including me, so I shouldn’t be

surprised or shocked, I guess…(some help that is),

not a good time for bad things to happen…

interesting times indeed.

C.T.R.: “This is the nitty gritty, Martin.”

Martin Fritter: “Ummm…….errr…..ummm.”

C.T.R. “Yes, that’s right….you can’t get away with it.”

This pizza sure tastes good!