I Can Hear You

I run with headphones. It’s my way
Of muting what my muscles say
When what I’m asking them to do
They’d rather not continue to.
It doesn’t make me deaf: I hear
Those cars approaching from the rear
Or just around the bend ahead;
I hear the X-ing of the Ped
Who’s overtaking me, and I
Am not surprised when bikes go by.
Quite honestly, it baffles me
When people say I’ll never see
The train that hits me if I’m in
My headphone bubble. Nonsense! When
I’m running, I’m hyper-aware
Of my surroundings. I don’t care
If you’re a pup with velvet paws,
I’ll hear you stalking me because
I just assume that you’re distracted
Or, what’s worse, that you’re attracted
To my stylin’ running togs
(‘Cause “stink” equates to “great” for dogs),
Which means it’s up to me to keep
Us both upright and safe. Your Jeep
With SatNav, Bluetooth, dashboard phone
And A-C makes you more alone
In your world than I am in mine.
Don’t sweat my headphones. I’ll be fine.


Checklist: Completed

I’d planned to work from home today
To keep distractions far away
And focus on one task, and, hey,
If that’s the scale, today’s a win:
One task consumed the day! But then
That task was simply logging in.

Folk Remedy

Sometimes headaches happen. When
Acetaminophen won’t cut it,
Stuff a tub of aspirin in
The gapespace in your face and shut it
Carefully. N.B. Don’t swallow:
That could make your belly swell
Or even kill you, which is hollow
Victory when you’re unwell.

Rather, hold the bitter mawfull
Till you’ve counted up to fifty
And then spit it out. Tastes awful,
But the brief distraction’s nifty.


The race began but I, distracted,
Lackadaisically reacted.
“Where’d my Daisy go?” I wondered.
Someone pointed out I’d blundered
And the field had taken flight,
But I replied I’d be alright
As soon as I my Daisy’d found.
A ray of light illum’n’d the ground
And there she was: My Daisy fair!
A great pink bow in lieu of hair,
In low-heeled shoes, a blouse, no skirt,
Those long, lush lashes made to flirt,
My 2-D ddarling. Call me crazy:
Minnie? Me? No, gimme Daisy!


Distracting rats in business suits
Is simplified through use of flutes
Projected from beneath a bridge.
Expensive? Well, perhaps a smidge,
But less than if the flutes were played
The union fees are thus defrayed–
And after all is said done,
Who doubts that flinging flutes is fun?
And, should they whistle whilst they fly,
Well, someone more adept than I
At rat-distracting may object,
But my attention would be wrecked
Which reason counts sufficiently
To carry on (at least for me).
Our common goal, of course, is that
There’s more than one distracted rat
In businesswear attired, so
Let’s get to work: We’ve flutes to throw!