Cerebrum Tempus

A frigging loveless poem,

that’s what’s rattling

around in my brain,

a damn loveless poem.

I wanted to write about

the oddness of 4/20 as a

date and its historical

significance in the modern era.

Instead my brain has me

feeling nervous that my

stupid fingers will never

again caress the cheek of a lover.

A lover in the true sense,

one that loves me even though

I might have avoided taking the

garbage out even though I said I’d do it.

My brain is terrified of never

being appreciated by the sweet

smiling eyes of my sweetie-pie as

she shakes her head at my foolishness.

I don’t know if it’s because of the

Spring in the air, or the sunshine,

but my brain is wholly focused on

the terror of loneliness.

The guy in the mirror this morning

had a horrified look in his eyes as

he considered the possibility of

un-ending bachelorhood.

Of course, then he laughed because

who could a believe a thing like that,

I’m a swell enough fella, right?

Right?

So now my brain is like some

crazy brain, wired into the ticking

of my own peculiar biological

clockworks.

My brain keeps checking that clock,

“Are you married yet,” he asks over

and over again.

“No, not yet, Damn Brain,” I’ll say.

“Okay, hurry up before I get

all senile and ornery,”  he’ll say.

“Aren’t you already ornery,” I ask.

“Watch it buddy, I got my finger on the button up here.”

A grumble in my stomach,

“No Don’t! I’ll take care of it, Jeeze,” I say.

“That’s what I thought,” he’ll say.

My body relaxes.

My brain just wants to be loved,

and he’s terrified it’ll never happen

for him.  So the loveless poems will

rattle around in there some more.

Till one shakes loose.

A frigging
loveless poem,

that’s what’s
rattling

around in my
brain,

a damn loveless
poem.




I wanted to
write about

the oddness
of 4/20 as a

date and its
historical

significance
in the modern era.




Instead my
brain has me

feeling
nervous that my 

stupid
fingers will never

again caress
the cheek of a lover.




A lover in
the true sense,

one that
loves me even though

I might have
avoided taking the

garbage out
even though I said I’d do it.




My brain is
terrified of never

being
appreciated by the sweet

smiling eyes
of my sweetie-pie as

she shakes
her head at my foolishness.




I don’t know
if it’s because of the

Spring in
the air, or the sunshine,

but my brain
is wholly focused on

the terror
of loneliness. 




The guy in
the mirror this morning

had a
horrified look in his eyes as

he
considered the possibility of

un-ending
bachelorhood. 




Of course,
then he laughed because

who could a
believe a thing like that,

I’m a swell
enough fella, right?

Right?




So now my
brain is like some

crazy brain,
wired into the ticking

of my own
peculiar biological

clockworks. 




My brain
keeps checking that clock,

“Are you
married yet,” he asks over

and over
again.

“No, not
yet, Damn Brain,” I’ll say.




“Okay, hurry
up before I get

all senile
and ornery,”  he’ll say.

“Aren’t you
already ornery,” I ask.

“Watch it
buddy, I got my finger on the button up here.”




A grumble in
my stomach,

“No Don’t! I’ll
take care of it, Jeeze,” I say.

“That’s what
I thought,” he’ll say. 

My body
relaxes. 




My brain
just wants to be loved,

and he’s
terrified it’ll never happen

for
him.  So the loveless poems will

rattle
around in there some more. 




Till one
shakes loose.