Memory Loss
I keep forgetting what I’m all about;
I think I was about to meditate:
That’s why I’m on my knees with open book
About to seek a transcendental state
Wherein I’ll find that all is really all,
And politics another word for hate!
Awake
Simon barked, so off I go,
Each precious second not to waste;
The little dog seems not to know
The meaning between love and haste.
Pisces the Fish,
A tasty dish,
If you could find
Celestial spice
With lemon rind,
And heavenly rice!
The problem with Simon is treatment;
For his ailments there’s no real cure.
He lives between love and destruction,
The destruction we continually defer.
With only his front legs working,
He slides from our bed where he sleeps;
When no one comes from his barking,
He crawls—thus playing for keeps!
Simon on the bed for the moment!