Discontent and boredom battle mightily
To see which owns my addled wit.
Rain streaks down the kitchen windows
Making worm-like shadows on the floor.

The need to move nips at my torpor
And reads my dictionary of excuses
As I stare at crumbs on the tablecloth
And wish I had another biscuit.

What’s gone wrong, I can’t make right.
I’m stuck here with no options
And I don’t care which way it goes;
I’m too busy being grumpy.

There’s a cricket hidden in the hallway
Nine days now and it just won’t die.
The muted chirping stops and starts,
Loud enough to be annoying

But not enough to be a mask and hide
The thunder of my disappointment
When clouds and rain refuse to leave
And I am left with only empty musings.

My hands aren’t pretty any more.
They used to pose so gracefully
But time has bruised and twisted them
And they no longer reach out to be seen.

That’s just another loss to ponder:
Take a number - stand in line.
Everything depresses me, and then...
There’s that mother-******* cricket!
              ljm