So… inspiration hit me this morning, as a result of a comment I made in response to Michelle Toussaint’s thought-provoking post
Oh, yes, the muse was upon me. I would write a poem about the disguises we hide behind…
Unfortunately my fingers had different plans. They wanted to write another poem about addiction, and that is what they did. The poem is so honest that it shocked even me, and even so, it doesn’t tell the full truth.
Herein lies my dilemma:
I have wriitten a few of these distressing poems lately, and don’t really want my followers raising their eyes heavenward and sighing “Oh no, not again!”
Which one of the following should I do?
- Start a new blog dedicated to addiction
- Remove my brain from its hinges and throw it to the seagulls (they’re not fussy about their diet)
- Post all my addiction poems on this blog
- Wear my slippers on my ears and tell everybody I’m an elf
- Carry on as I am, posting some addiction poems, and keeping the rest private
- Squeeze myself into a baby’s highchair and scream for my dinner (proably not, as my mum was really annoyed the last time I did that. She had to cut me out of it, and then my dad wasn’t happy, because he had to repair it before my sister could use it again)
- Stop pretending to be a poet, and devote the rest of my life to the gardening I said I’d do (but haven’t)
- Boil my head in a mix of vinegar and rose oil, to both preserve and sweeten it
- Become a vegan, build a spaceship and throw nutloaf at passers by, yelling that I’m from the planet Vogon and they have to join me in a salad.
- See a psychiatrist – although that would be pointles because I saw her last winter and she said there was nothing she could do for me, as it’s not me but the others. Ting ting > come to the party in my hair > bop bop shoowap > I’m not getting out of the shoebox until those water balloons stop stalking me > beep beep > don’t sleep in the ice box or your fingers will turn into fish and be eaten by a whale > tum tum > I’m putting carrots up my nose to feed my brain
- Stop bothering you with silly questions and let you get on with your blogging in peace
This was meant to be a serious post, but as I explained, my fingers have taken over my brain. They’re running amok.
© Jane Paterson Basil