While not expressing distaste or regret from a
deed of putting Aussie tomato sauce on sliced
bocconcini - or whether the Sao cracker led to
my degeneration first place, I’m able to say, in
the event, I’m lucky to be sound of mind; four
months we’ve been distracted by a campaign
to sell El Rancho Avocados come hell or high
water; the ‘touted’ auction failed so dismally it
Shredded equanimity into deranged dementia,
yet out of th’ blue came a new buyer & 27 day
contract, so house shifting meant my missing
wallet too easily delineates emergent insanity
and bodes like deep humiliation; so I'm now a
recognised nominee in the barmy ranks
For 2 days the spectre of having to prove who
I was in order to re-exist - with right to receive
re-issued plastic elements of my real identity,
weighed like a tombstone - everything I need
was apparently in the wallet - hence lunacy is
an easy out - and why nutters don’t need I.D.
But my aberrancy came after finding the said
piece on a tractor I’d parked out of the rain; a
worthy act tho’ it plainly hadn’t registered in a
mind filled by house vacating confusion; more
amazing, finding it missing generated anxiety
yet dissolved in blasé relief on discovery - so
On sale contract settlement day I am sipping
The Glenlivit earned, in spite of my imagined
narrowly avoided impasse with Authorities to
prove who I am, with my wallet safely placed
in the same spot I where couldn’t find it three
days ago & eating a Sao-bocconcini cracker
dashed in a splash of Aussie tomato sauce -
now thats what says I’m sound of mind
© 27 February 2015, I. D. Carswell
