Not that I haven't ballsed up the rhythm scheme in half the lines already anyway, but for the duration of this poem, I have decided to pronounce years as "two thousand" with no "and." So, for example, 2009 = two-thousand-nine. Got it? All righty!
2009 – Oh man, what can I say?
I can’t wait for your stank ass to just go away.
You came and you told me I’d end the year happy;
But instead, bitch, I’m ending it totally crappy!
My father has cancer, my mother is gone,
My husband has polypses in his colon.
(Okay, so that last part’s not totally true
But I can’t rhyme “diverticulitis” – can you?),
My one Lady’s still crazy, the other’s off to a home
(And she also has cancer; pardon me while I moan...)
You could stop there, but no: you took Johnny’s One Brother,
And no one will tell us what’s ailing the Other,
Two friends back home hung themselves due to recession,
And One Friend’s developed a chronic condition —
Even poor little One Dog is in Doggie Heaven —
Good lord, I can’t wait for 2011!
(I know this year coming is 2010
But I’m thinking of hibernating until then.)
If it weren’t for my mom, then this last would be least,
But I do wish that she could have seen me released:
The Project you said would be finished by June.
Is just barely done now —
But we’re sending it soon...
Looking back on these twelve months, I guess it’s just fine
That we didn’t send it in 2009.
I will cryptically post here the day that it goes,
I’ll say something like “Hey! Cross your fingers and toes!”
So everyone out there can wish me good luck —
'Cause if this year's like last year, I’m royally fucked.Not yet! Not yet! Don’t wish it yet! You’ll jinx me! Just say...
HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!
11 comments:
I say you're bananas!
Happy New Year to you and Johnny...certainly hope it is better than this one!
Best wishes for a happier new year.
phlebitis?
dionysus?
i wanna buy a prius?
identity crisis?
Tubby Shaw, wishing wishing wishing you a much happier New Year - and wishing wishing wishing i had your facility with words!
I’ve a pain in my side and my colon’s all bent
Even though I’m not old and largely intent
On staying alive as long as my life is
Not bothered by gout or diverticulitis
But some things in life transcend even those
Like finding a writer of poems and prose
Who gives one a lift and can make life sound great
Even though her tooth’s out and her mother is late
Well
Janice told me before that “The House and I”
Was a damn good read, well written and wry?
She told me of all that befell you last year
And the reason I’m writing’s to say – loud and clear
Last year’s over, it’s gone and it’s past
The days are lengthening, the sun’s coming fast
Life will change for the better now last year’s out
But please, tell me how do I shake off this gout?
Ok, so I don’t have gout but I just love your writing....and now know what diverticulitis is.
Happy New Year!
Charlie -- You are!
Ladies S and C -- Thanks! You too.
Khurston -- Good ones!
Janice-Nana -- Thanks (but what is Tunny Shaw?)
Terry - HI! Welcome! And holy cow! You rock, my new antipodeal friend (and ceremonial Pepe)!
Tubby (a common nickname for a plump man) Shaw: say "to be sure" in a mock Irish accent and you find you are talking about him
As instructed: Happy New Year, EGE!
I'll wish more for you after 2010 arrives. For the record, I'm glad I read the comments before trying to rhyme diverticulitis.
Nana -- Oohhh...! Actually, that's what I sort of figured, but I wanted to make sure I was right (and the "Tunny" thing was, obviously, a typo -- I was four or five beers in at that point.)
Robert -- Thanks! And I know, between Khurston and Terry, I feel like I didn't even try -- which, okay, I didn't. But still!
Happy Twenty Ten !
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