There is spittle and there’s spittin… They be pointing at some heads.

They be spinning and be fumin.When the natives off his meds.

He is mad and he is large. He is all angry, dressed in yellow.

He is quiet, then he is loud. There’s no mistaken that’s the fellow.

He be angry, he be mean.  When he argues, its call the feds.

Because no one wants to deal with that man who’s off his meds.

There’s a space in the upstairs bedroom window I leave open; big enough for Ned the cat to jump in and out as required. This was not designed for Ned… I like the fresh air.

I wake up before the alarm now most mornings at 6 and feed Ned.

Ned is in now and asleep on the most comfortable chair downstairs. He reminds me of me in my teenage years and 20’s: up all night sleep all day, have someone feed me and gone again… don’t pay rent.

She will be awake soon and she will say that Ned is hers…

She will go to school. I will write and Ned will sleep intermittently.

My boots they needed polish. It was shine they wouldn’t get.

My mind it drifted off somewhere, I was in Bali or Tibet.

There was a woman in some sandals. Her hair was wet and black.

She smiled and looked friendly, then my memory it went back.

To that time I was barefooted, so hot that I had to run.

There was sand and sea and hopes and dreams and life had just begun.

Now I’m washing dishes and packing lunches for her school.

Funny how it all worked out, a life so sweet and far from cruel.

The weather changed, but there is no hardened rule.

You can put away the summer shorts, with the Ides of September Cool.

My friend is starting menopause, she will break out in a swet.

She is begging for the coolness, that September Cool will get.

The crazies are getting louder now, they’ve gone from cool to strange.

They’ve been praying to some Diety, and praying hard for change.

I get nervous when the usually quiet crazies go loud…

What could cause the change?

After years of saying nothing; just staring off into space is replaced with yelling well scripted insults at whomever and speaking with witchy hand gestures to beings I don’t see; is a bit off putting.

What has caused the change?

Do they know something I don’t?

Perhaps more will be revealed today.

Always something to look forward to!

Sometimes the fuse is lit.

Sometimes you hedge your bet.

Sometimes you have to sit.

Sometimes that’s all you get.

Sometimes there’s an option.

Sometimes the fuse is wet.

Sometimes there is no topspin.

Sometimes you just forget.

There’s no moral to this story.

Sometimes you take a chance.

Sometimes you play the music.

Sometimes you have to dance.

A Goddess, she was lovely.

Had me trembling at the knee.

But one bad use of pronouns.

And you know I had to flee.

Nothing new under the sun.

Same old same old.

Not even old pronouns.

Have anything new to hold.

I was worried about nothing. There was nothing on the slate.

There were rumblings in the closet. Though not the hand of fate.

Acceptance was my compliance. The wise had made a dent.

The voices had all left my head. Not broke but bruised and bent.

There’s a moment in the sunshine. With a cool September breeze.

I think I left her at the alter. To try some of, do as I please.

She plays a game I don’t play.

It’s called: Do what I want or it means you don’t love me…

I’m not angry. I am disappointed. I really like her.

What could have possibly happened to someone where an adult could possibly think that this could work with another adult?

I’m not sure I want to know.

I only know that I am too old for such gamesmanship.