Morning Lament Poem by david lessard

It began, the same as usual, the stubble on the chin,
Reflecting back to me, the trouble I'd soon be in;
The hooded eyes like Mitchum, bedroom eyes, say some,
But sex was not a factor, as this morning became undone.
It started with stubbing my toe, a little thing you say,
But a forerunner of misfortune, was lurking in my way;
Then a nick, then two, from shaving, the razor was brand new,
But my hand was not yet awake, and it was shaking too.
Then I dropped the bathroom mirror, I heard it quckly shatter,
I almost cut my hands from glass as I wondered what's the matter?
I washed my face, guzzled mouthwash, then I combed my head,
I checked to see, still half dressed, what side I'd gotten up from bed.
What was the wrong side by the way, the left or was it the right?
Or did it have to do with sleep, or dreams, or a tossing-turning night?
I was almost afraid to get in the shower, perhaps I'd slip and fall,
But I couldn't pursue my morning care, by wondering about it all.
The fears I had were fruitless, as I lathered my body with sighs,
Just a interlude of cold water and a bit of shampoo in the eyes.
I toweled nice and dry, combed the scalp again, feeling rather funny,
Spilled a touch of coffee, burnt the toast and the eggs came out runny.
Got dressed with no problem, checked the face, saw I'd missed a patch,
the shirt and pants were fine, but my socks just didn't match.
The hell with it I stammered, who's gonna look and see?
Certainly not my friends and foes, and certainly not me.
The way's still clear I said to myself, so have a little heart,
I jumped into my auto, turned the key, the damned thing wouldn't start.
I simmered and stewed in fury, the reason began to don...
I'd left the keys in my car and left my damned lights on.
Now you may laugh and think it's crazy,
and your right it surely is..hee hee,
You must be able to laugh at yourself,
and say there's a fool, such as me.