A Prosy Type Poem Poem by bob barci

I left the bed
this morning at 8
for a purpose I still haven’t
decided upon.
By 9, there I was,
sitting at the dining room table
drinking down chocolate mint coffee
and Melanie blasting in my ears
through a walkman.
I want to call up my numbers
and see if I’m closer to a hit or a miss,
but I don’t want to break
the continuity of the tape.
I would also like to
get breakfast ready to
nuke in the microwave later.
But I’ll hold off on that
as the birds would start
to screech and want
to join me in the kitchen
and destroy the omelets
I plan to make.
Speaking of the birds,
Harvey, the Amazon parrot
looks like he is fast asleep and,
Reggie, the Scarlet Macaw,
is munching on a dried fruit and nut mix
I shared with him earlier.
Ooooops, I spoke slightly too soon.
Reggie, rediscovered the bell in his cage.
Darn bird thinks he’s a fireman.
Luckily I was able to remove it
without an argument from him.
Now all we need is for his dummy owner
to get his butt out of bed.
He thinks he’s Sleeping Beauty.
And no way
am I going to give him a wake up kiss.
Tape ends and I call up my numbers,
and discover that I missed again.
Not even close.
By my watch, it’s 10: 30,
that means time to start
moving about and hope
that the noise I make
will get dummy out of bed.
It’s time to get this show on the road.