Howdy Fellow Citizens.
Y’all done with all this jailin’? This, off then on, internment is a run on sentence rapidly going stale. Like this post.
Seems my desire to poem is, once again, in a lockup courtesy of this extended lockdown. In fact, I feel my muse must have been hoosegowed…like…you know… akin to being held incommunicado.
So I’m left to hold the fort of this post all by my lonesome. With a loathsome repost and/or the silly word slinging of an old man unable to visit his neighborhood bar for a pour or two while sharing some out loud poor mouth and pouty senior citizen reflections on his end times while all from ages 8 to 88 are wise to be practicing similar eschatological exercises.
May you live in interesting times…my ass.
That sums it…for the day…somewhat.
And all I got, cepting this young lady’s first reaction to Richard Thompson below.
