Three steps forward
One step back
Advance (times three)
Three weeks pouring
One week draining
Choreography in training
I had a celebration planned
But Congress says we’ll have to wait
A few more weeks.
And check back February 8.
Some things simply can’t be taught
While others probably should not.
The latter’s where the battle’s fought;
The former, why not take a shot?
The government’s shut down?
It’s Saturday, so who can tell?
I’m in the Abdication Zone!
My time, from now, is all my own
(At least until tomorrow’s dawn).
For now my mandates all are gone:
I’ve written what I said I’d write;
I’ve studied what I should tonight;
The people I’d agreed to meet
Have all been met. I ought to eat
But if I dawdle and forget
And sleep instead, that’s better yet!
I’ll wake refreshed with plans in place:
Go brush your teeth, then stuff your face.
That should start the weekend brightly!
Either way, I’m finished. Nightly!
The bucket wasn’t on my head
When I woke up. Did someone dead,
In dying, for their final trick
Remove my headgear with a kick?
I’d placed my face inside the pail
For privacy, to no avail,
Apparently, ’cause here I lie
With cheeks and chin exposed to sky
And every freckle, mole and pore
Like crime scene tape across a door
Inviting passers-by to stare
And wonder, God, what happened there?
My bucket shields me from attack
And ridicule. I want it back.
It’s tough to watch the news these days.
Seems everyone we’d thought to praise
On Saturday, by Tuesday morning’s
Featured in the Creepo Warnings
That now merit brief reports
On every newscast: Traffic, Sports,
The Weather, and Misogyny.
It can’t be only on T.V.
Behind the eyes within this room
Surprises hide and crises loom
But I know how to deal with that:
Deny, and lie, and blame the cat.