Oh my toe!
Stubbed by a shard, a recurring
punishment, a breaking sound
surprising eardrums as something
fell when you swivel, you clown!
Yours is a story of blundering,
a prophesy of Murphy’s Law,
a repetition of past mistakes
nailing you to imperfection.
It’s not so much that you’re spastic,
though that too, but life is,
you found out the hard way,
as treacherous as a monkey bar.
Always the eager apprentice,
you swagger past a swing door,
like a cowboy, managing to dodge
scrapes like a stray gun shot.
You swivelled at the bar counter,
ordered a frothy beer, you heard
your name called, you turned around
expectantly, and that’s when
your avalanche of hands sent
the glass skeetering to the hard floor
and due to lack of proper footwear,
you stubbed your toe on a shard.
Which only goes to show,
you need primping, cowboy boots
or whatever, and you need to claim
grandly, you missed a gun shot
which, when you think about it,
is no small victory, for all the crap
you take, while you go about
your skillful apprenticeship.
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