20 August 2016

You Could Say

You could truthfully say it was the beginning of a good 
day; there were a host of things outstanding - none so 
pressing an iron was needed right away, yet we got

By, the electric clippers cleaning meant a beard’s trim 
wasn’t a hopeless case of cursing to th’ barbers shop, 
well not this time anyway, and the trim’s nice and tidy 

As a purview to getting a renewed #2 haircut as soon 
as the boss lady can find time and her glasses in that 
sinecure space she calls retirement, usually between 

Minding th’ grandkids Tuesday ’n Wednesday & when 
Midsummer Murders has a break, tho it didn’t happen 
yesterday like it was supposed; but I’d’ve discovered 

The clippers needed maintenance a day earlier - woe 
is me, but with th’ last Super Rugby to enjoy, I wasn’t 
disposed to get on the wagon a day earlier - and now 

Today’s events began shaping those tasks I’d usually 
loathe i.e., finding proper clothes to wear when I read 
poetry at a Rest Home Remembrance Day soiree 

Yes, I’d agreed to do the deed for a friend so shirts & 
trousers with proper shoes had to be rediscovered in 
a mood of raw rectitude caused by whose idea it was 

To put ‘em somewhere else in the first place - but she 
graciously locates ‘em, & irons a shirt free of creases, 
before departing for her Tuesday Grandma duties 

And all that’s left for me is to gee up the slow cooker 
with Indian spiced vegetables to a little more ├ęclat - I 
won’t go overboard, & make it to the gate where Her

Grace awaits a morning apple offer in a resigned but 
patient stance punctuated with a warm whinny - now 
its time for me to get busy brushing a reefer jacket 

Intended to make me look like I do readings regularly 
wearing polished English-style shoes; truly I haven’t 
worn ‘em in years, but I’ve never really needed to 
© 31 May 2016, I. D. Carswell 

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