December 17, 2014 by babylondogs
The levels we never intended
The almost humorous predicaments
Of day to day existing.
I write this while my dog
Eats from an overturned frisbee
and a bungee cord holds my pants up,
I recently washed from a sink
With one extra large tee shirt
Lathered in soap.
To stay warm in this unheated cave
I do jumping jacks in the morning
And sleep behind the refrigerator
For as much heat off the condenser
I can muster.
Oh these are wonderful times.
If I survive them
I will enthral my grandchildren.
But more likely, when police find me
Suspended from a rope,
They will tell their families
Of the skeleton
They had to cut down from the rafters,
His pants held up
By a yellow bungee cord.