My mother was of the opinion that if you didn’t have something nice to say, then it was best to “shut up!”

Once we had neighbors, a couple; a man and his wife, whom she didn’t really care much for either of them…

She said, “On the positive side… at least you don’t have to spoil 2 homes with them.”

Two men in their 30’s are talking. Actually, one is talking, and the other is listening:

“What are all the little dogs about? I mean, I can understand if you want a pit bull or a Rottweiler or a German Sheppard for protection… but these little lap dogs… I think they are replacing babies for this generation… this country is fucked man. This place is going in the shitter in a big way. “

We were dreaming of a future.

Where something better came along.

When we could guide the children.

Where we could be that strong.

We were dreaming of a future.

And the future it is here.

And we are all so happy now.

There was so much crap to clear.

We were up against those forces.

In a post Thanos multiverse.

All the heroes, they now know.

To carry makeup in their purse.

Now that that’s been settled.

No more God or faith no more.

Our leaders are busy leading.

No more questions or out the door.

When men feel stress, they process.

When women feel stress, they talk.

Generally speaking, women feel uncomfortable with the men’s process because it happens in silence.

For a man to talk when he’s stressed only increases his stress.

I’ll just leave this here and go away for a while and write…

Talk among yourselves

OR

Process by yourself.

I was rolling in the darkness.

The winter turns to spring.

Not much more than plenty.

I guess I didn’t need a thing.

I see her growth in real time.

Sometimes, I witness all.

Take it in and keep in stride.

And just pray I don’t appall.

The light is on horizon.

I am almost out of bed.

There are reasons to be hopeful.

For less reasons than you said…

Taserface was sleeping in the bedroom on a quilt.

Free from all her suffering and all the pains of shame and guilt.

Her fur was soft and matted from the garden and the birds.

And the shit and dust and blood and mud and things that don’t have words.

Taserface is sleeping, and she twitches like a cat.

We feed and need her lust for greed, but that’s not where it’s at.

In the darkness, she will awaken, and once more, she will roam.

We are moving, and poor Taserface is searching elsewhere for a home.

We dined on tea and oranges.

On the sand down by the sea.

There were possible storm warnings.

That escaped both you and me.

The dingy left the harbor.

The sail snapped by noon.

The winds grew dark and heavy.

Under far too soon, typhoon.

They’ll be no more tea and oranges.

Or walks down at the park.

The dreamers dream is heavy now.

And faint hopes are growing dark.

I’d been searching for the answers… When finally she came along.

Preforming miracles, curing cancers. Giving music to the song.

She taught and gave directions. Even when I didn’t ask.

She let me know my fortune. In her sunshine I could bask.

She showed me all my foibles. And how little I evolved.

I felt criminally unworthy, so I left her. Mystery solved.