Like A Desert Mirage

I had a nightmare that I’d stayed another 40 years there in the capital shitty of Brownbakistan.  The Donald was still president. The rich never died. They just kept up the greed forever. Intellect rarely gets inside the perimeters of Topekatentiary.  If it happened and they aren’t my immediate family, I’d sure like to meet them.

When I woke from the nightmare, I looked out the window. I saw smart people having deep conversations totally drama-free.  I threw on some clothes and ran out to welcome them and make myself available to any demands they may have as incentive to stay.  But before I could get the second syllable out of hello, they turned to glitter, giggling as they turned to dust and disappeared amongst grass and weeds.

Is life in hell really life.  Is the death of sinners another conspiracy. With no smart people to talk to, overgrown toddlers running the government, could the entire past have been an illusion.

Where’s David Copperfield when I need him so?

Out Of The Loop

It was all of them. They kept me out of the loop. Why?  Because they were all trashy people.  They are all entitled to jump off with their leader. I want none of them on board with me. Keep your clique.

I am about decent people. Only the decent need follow me.

Wise but weepy

Beautiful blossom among so many others, to which an old weeping willow cannot compare. Rooted deep in the soil, I cannot cast shade either. Jealous, I could be. But I am not. I have something they don’t. Wisdom. I may have noone to share it with, but by gum, I’ve got it.

Why, when I was a blossom, I sought wisdom in every action. We appreciated wisdom then. Nowadays it’s all about popularity, gossip, sex, dr-  Well, I won’t bother ya no more.  You kids carry on.

Save it – in a tanka

via Daily Prompt: Puncture

 

If you’ve come to charm

don’t waste my time. I don’t have

daddy issues, babe.

Trying to puncture my heart

will get your ego punctured.