Fast-forwarded to Voicemail

A sort of life, fast-forwarded to voicemail.
A stillness, some nothing, and no one goes there.
Sitting on the curbside, an undelivered bouquet
To one, who is today, too tired to even care.
A long-prized dream curled up and thrown
Litters the now brown weed-choked path.
Lost within the square root of lonely,
Then, reaching zero—there’s no need for math.
In the Better Easy I used to be a petty messiah,
Everyone smiled when I came thru the door.
Now, stuck in the Unselected Peoples Republic
And soon, very soon, to be very, very poor.
Unending turnover spiced with unethical gleanings,
Castrated by and for The Ever Mighty Dollar,
This social wannabe monk arrives at his disempowerment:
Do what’s right—far from: chained to his holy secular collar.
Bills to pay, debts to shrink, don’t forget the cat food!
Welcome to your middle class, it’s all understood.


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 June 13, 2014, in Poem. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

Comments Adored

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: