No Plans

I stare and stare til I’m blue in the face
The phone sits unringing, mocking in place
You have no mail, shouts from the screen
I tamp down the frustration and thoughts obscene
Arrived at another weekend, no plans, of course
Despite vehement intensions, alone, it seems by choice
Readily she gave me her number and email as well
She was just being nice, not “interested,” I never can tell
Dinner was bland, but the dishes are all done
York Peppermint Patties are all there is left for fun
Maybe reruns won’t be as awful, you never know
Wait! It’s the phone! Wow, later, gotta go…


About Kitt

Sometimes a rhyme or couplet wanders across my consciousness. So, I share it. Other times I'm a hospice social worker; others, a Dad; others, southerner, New Orleanian, cajun enthusiast, voter, and on better days, a not-too-awful-poet/rhymster. Welcome to my page. Enjoy.

Posted on August 10, 2012, in Poem. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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