By now the lump, that only six months ago
had started out as a possible zit on the top of my head
has reached the size of a small Brussels sprout;
and it’s too bad because I like Brussels sprouts
I’m just glad it isn’t the size of a half gallon of Rum
or a two liter bottle of Diet Pepsi; because that would be
a real bummer and probably be call for a tall stiff drink.
I remember as a kid when I had jumped in a deep ditch
and knocked out my front teeth. It was nothing major;
a root canal, a little pain killer and a doctor’s note for school.
The note was the most important of the three.
But today at my advanced age; everything is a death sentence
and you don’t even get the sympathy notes anymore.
Those sweet cards with notations
that usually accompany such events; at least
when you were younger, people could still look you straight in the eye;
these days everybody expects you to fall to your knees,
clutch your heart and audition for that lifetime achievement award;
but in reality, all they really want is to put you in a room with the other vegetables;
where they conceal your meds in the cold broccoli with lumpy cheese sauce…
(c) 2008 T Sheridan
Ted Sheridan
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lumpy-sauce-and-cold-broccoli/
