Tahiti Or Bust.


Tahiti Or Bust........

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Morning blahs

settle over me,
a suffocating

blanket of apathy,
as I just write,
taking a fast break
from any breakfast,
I digest words,

and swallow
fragmented sentences,
bathed in

the milky dawn.

The first snow has
painted a white canvas
for my boots

to etch patterns in,
the dogs have already
painted a Piscasso on it.
Nothing to do today,
but do nothing,
Sleep dirt

freshly cleansed
from my eyes,
my vision is clearer,
but my soul dreams on.

Perhaps in

some tropical clime,
I would leap

from my hammock,
dash down to the surf
and frolic in nature's wet spots,
The only white

in my backyard

would be sand.

No blahs, rather some

coconut milk and pineapple,
papaya and mango

that would sweeten my existence,
my journal would be pregnant
with the seeds of my thoughts.

Alas, I squat here,
a prisoner in

November's squalls,
penning something

that is just a write,
when it could

have been....
Just right!!

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