The bloomin train from town was late,
a Chevy launched a puddle at my coat,
that day I was in love with genuine hate
the world seemed to revolve by sheer remote.
What is the use, said Barry (guy at work) ,
and popped a bunch of pills, to lift the mood,
he's always been an item and a jerk,
and liked to see his workers in the nude.
The world needs serotonin, we must have a boost
he liked his prozac pills, had dumped his holy book
Big Pharma had been picked to rule the roost
restored his sanity and got him off the hook.
I went to lunch at nine, to get a Reuben triple,
a shot of Jack washed down by Heineken, (it's Dutch) ,
I do prefer the great expression tipple
it keeps me focused and insane but not by much.
Came out from Harry's with a stagger in my smile,
work piling up and who, I ask, would give a hoot
up to the boss to put a damper on his bile
I have a job to do, a real horn to toot.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Well..........between working, tooting your own horn, keeping the stagger in your smile, and a triple Reuben (LOVE them! !) , you just had a busy day...now, home for the long weekend, some rest, and a bit of living to keep you 'focused and SANE! ' Good writing, here, H....super, in fact. I loved the asides, like (it's Dutch.) Keeps the everyday sanity in the poem, you know?