Early Bird

Got up at 6:30 this morning to meet one of my employed friends (oh, hell, they're all employed) for an early run. She cancelled due to a sore throat so I went alone. It was nice being out early in the morning, especially since I drank a small cup of instant coffee to, uh, move things along in my lower GI tract so I wouldn't have to make any emergency poop stops.

I treated myself to coffee and a scone when I finished and now, I am feeling inspired. And so, in honor of National Poetry Month (I've been getting a podcasted poem a day emailed to me from Knopf of the unsilent K), I have decided to do a poem a week. Word to the wise: I am a horrible poet. And by horrible I mean so atrocious that your eyes might bleed. So read on at your own risk.

A Haiku, for the Rindge Ave Crossing Guard Lady

Shaped like a weeble
At your age some are feeble
But you stop traffic