The exercise:
Write a four line poem about: a hard life.
Day got off to a bit of a rough start, having to clean up broken (more like shattered) beer bottles at Lions park. Around a car that was illegally parked in a handicapped spot. Surrounded by several more empty cans. Also found two empty 24 can beer boxes in the ladies washroom.
It was still parked there early afternoon (now with a fashionable parking ticket accessory). I'm pretty sure whoever it was got so drunk last night that they forgot where they left their car. I like picturing them still wandering around town right now.
Anyway. Things improved from there and I got most things I needed to do done before lunch. Made for a relatively relaxed afternoon. Good way to head into my weekend.
Mine:
Living on the streets,
How did I end up here?
Ah, what do you care?
Pass me another beer.
It sounds like the people who kept the washrooms so tidy the day before were replaced by their out-of-town cousins today then! I like your hypothesis about the car though... it makes perfect sense! And I guess we ought to pleased that they left the car there instead of trying to drive it home.
ReplyDeleteHmm, for a Canadian you sound far too cheerful about living on the streets. I thought "Winter" was the Canadian solution to homelessness?
A hard life
It was clear, from her reddened eyes and peeling skin,
That life was wearing hard on her. With a grin
The wicked queen held out an apple that shone as red as blood,
And let her find a new life, as mysterious Mistress Hood.
[It's about time I wrote a little bit more about Miss Hood I think. I'll have to see if I can find the old posts already!]
Greg - yes, if the alternative was driving home drunk then they made the right choice. Still deserved the parking ticket. And one for littering, but I guess that would be hard to prove. Still worth a shot, I reckon...
ReplyDeleteYes, a return of Miss Hood would be most welcome! Really enjoyed this poem, by the way. Great imagery and flow to it. Nicely done :)