My weekend sins - eating chocolate-fudge ice-cream,
cupcakes with a caramel centre and marinated chicken
wings - reduced me to a catatonic robot, just a perfect
match for Marvin the paranoid android - while so many
words replay in my head - such as malapropism and
Mixed metaphors, upper or lower case for Achilles heel
and Herculean tasks, so hair-splitting is the right way to
describe editing, proof-reading a more normal job when
two people compare a finished text with its original -
still, it's strange work since there is no metaphysical
Result, only joy in the process - I doubt whether my
restive mind would allow such a static life - yet I'm
older now - might be able to ignore the inner voice,
today more rational I see my beloved did not call me
ugly when he took me task for spending money on
Non-essentials, I projected my own dissatisfaction
with the last course day on him - I missed my black
camouflage so much, my undercover persona would
not remain in the background like my favourite Disc
World character, Granny Weatherwax
[4 August 2014]
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem