ON A MOST SIMPLE
DAY AS THIS
On a most simple day as this, I won't
do anything much. I have some mail to
post, a check to deposit, and - at most -
a tomato or two to buy. It's rather simple,
this life of I, and I go about it willingly.
(You may, yes, pronounce that oddly, to
rhyme, if you wish - I comply). There's
nothing really running harsh or quick
in this stream of things today. I walk like
a densely mannered man : perhaps a coat,
usually a hat, never gloves or never umbrella
either, at that. Tricky-tray, the ladies at the
church have it, by the looks of their battered
sign. I wonder what that is. A 'tricky-tray'
selection? A salad or an olive, that jumps
down to your lap. Or a sandwich, perhaps,
that disassembles itself for you on the plate.
(The sandwich, not you). For you? Does it
bother? For me, that would grate.
I couldn't take the pressure.