Tools At times we execute temper-tainted torrents Of frustration upon our tools. Battering, Breaking, berating them simply because They would not accommodate our shaky attempts To manage, manipulate, maneuver them. Only when we fully face the fact that this is not The fault of the tools, do we ardently admit all Our uses of those tools miscued. And the mars From them of lurid, larcenous lacerations Are the consequence of our shaking The hapless tools all over the place. However, when nosy niggling neighbors ask What in the world happened, we say the mars Were caused by our use of terribly tooled tools. Fooling no one. But hey, it could work........ |
Bugger Them I go to the gym to lose my behind, And it gets smaller each time. One who did not know this about me Asked, "Where have you been lately? I don't see you out walking anymore." "Been going to the gym, out of the weather." "What?! By jingoes! There, only snobs go. And you're too friendly to do so." I sensed this but false accolade, For it showed her the snob, self-made. And I knew that her friends, like her, Observe with discomfort my tremor. "My friend," I say, "It's sad, your opinion, For I've found no snobbery in the gym. So to all who believe this gossip, mistaken, From my Aussie heart I say, "Bugger them." |
Hot Coffee, Free Bibs "Must we order coffee? We'll get burned!" "Maybe. But we're here for proof that waitress Causes burns. Shhh, here she comes now." "Hello. What can I serve you?" "Hot coffee, please, For my partner and me." "Fine. I'll be right back." "Did you see how edgy she got When I said coffee?" "I did, lets leave." "Relax, a little burn won't kill you. She's coming. Look, she's so worked up, her hands are shaking." "Yeah, she can hardly wait to burn us." "Here you are, hot coffee and free bibs To protect you from burns, in case I Splash coffee on you when I pour. My darn shaking is not in my control. One customer refused to wear one, Got splashed and burned, then ranted she'd tell You cops. You're putting yours on, good. But your partner looks scared." "Don't fret about him, he has a burn phobia. With the bibs, we can't hold you guilty for burns That won't happen," "Good to know. Uh, your Partner, he's..." "What?! For Pete's sake, man, Come out from under the table." . |
Brain Docs "Jake, this must be the ward for neurologists Who've gone loony. Jake, Jake! Psst! Look, over there. One of my doctors. Looks like he flipped his lid for sure. I thought it strange how he was so laid back He fell off his chair at our last apointment And got his head cracked." "Poor guy. Must've been your tremor was so Boring he lost interest and fell back, asleep." "Oh yeah? Well, look over there. It's the doctor whom would stare At me, run around his desk and tap His fingernails into it so hard that He left marks. Bored? No, but he was fed up With not finding meds. Guess it drove him nuts. Uh oh, he's headed for you." "Hello, young man. I cured you, didn't I." "Uh uh, you mean him." "Yeah, me, not Jake. You were my doctor." "Shut up! I don't want to hear from you. Just my patient!" "Excuse me, but that was me." "No! You shake. My patients don't. See?" "You're right. Jake doesn't. Amazing. Goodbye. Wow Jake, brain docs sure tend toward lunacy." |
One Broken Tooth I'm intelligent! Did you forget? Breaking my front tooth does not mean That I'm now some sort of idiot. I'm as smart as when my head I beaned When I lost my balance and fell. Only my tooth was affected. Isn't that swell? Yes, I've bad balance, but that's no crime. I lose it at unexpected times. Not my mind! My balance! How irksome, One broken tooth and you're thought a moron. |
Tough, Isn't It? (Based on an experience of Lori B. :-)s ) When in the grocery store last week, I put in a shopping cart's coin slot a quarter To free it from the chain that held it to others. Well, with essential tremor I barely squeaked It into the slot. No one gave aid And I was glad, so anxious was I over My tremor. They stared, but just till I paid For my groceries at the checkout counter. Fully frazzled by then, I rushed my emptied Cart back to where the others were chained. My tremors jiggled the cart so wildly, Aligning it correctly was a futile strain, Thus, no return quarter. Peeved to the core, To steal the cart took me over. But before I could tear out of the store, A lady, smiling, offered me a quarter For use of it. I almost refused But accepting was better than jail time. As I took her quarter, anger defused, I saw she'd empathy sublime For, as she gave me her quarter, I saw That her hands were as shaky as mine. "Tough, isn't it?" she said and I nodded awed. Lori's Ibsurdities |
Tremor Tales page 24 |