I wonder sometimes
What stories I'll tell,
On my way to Heaven
Not heading for Hell,
Some might think I'm crazy
The things that I'm saying,
But if you are religious
I know that you're praying.

At work the other night
I performed some good feat,
The nurse that I helped said
God bless you, Pete,
And it caused me to wonder
If she somehow had the power,
Bestowed on her by God
To bless me that hour.

I didn't notice any difference
That a blessing could have made,
Perhaps the blessing is in storage
To be sometime later played,
To my better advantage
In a time of greater need,
Like when I stick myself with a needle
Causing me to bleed.

What makes people think
They can randomly send a blessing,
As personal agents of God
It's almost depressing,
Because that's what the whackos say
Before they poison their flock,
It fills me with trepidation
As I prepare for the blessing shock.

Who knows what it means
When you're blessed for a sneeze,
Though I've always preferred
"Gesundheit", if you please,
That kind German wish
To offer me good health,
But I'd really prefer ten dollars
And wish me good wealth.

Most people declare
Some New Year's resolution,
But after just about five weeks
They experience New Year's dissolution,
Their resolve fizzles out
Their intentions migrate to another nation,
Let's rewind the narrative
I propose a New Year's recommendation.

Taking into account
The party excitement of January one,
You will promise yourself almost anything
To have a couple more hours of fun,
But with the hangover that comes next day
You may feel a sense of degradation,
So far your resolutions are in the trash can
What you need is a New Year's recommendation.

Recommendations allow for some wiggle room
Instead of being ****** for what you do or what you don't,
When choosing the lesser of two evils
You can opt for the lesser instead of the one that you won't,
In the world of N-Y resolutions
You may feel cursed when you blow it the first time,
Whereas with New Year's recommendations
You realize you haven't committed a crime,

I hope to start a new trend
Where we stop beating ourselves up,
When we make a couple of egregious mistakes
But that is just the half-filled cup,
Leaving room for the better intentions
That are bound to return sometime next week,
When your New Year’s Recommendations
Are discovered at that hot new boutique.

What is the thing
What bothers me the most?
Relentless streams of visitors
Or the ever-present ghost,
He rattles in the closet
And hides behind the curtain,
At times, I prefer the ghost
Over visitors, that's for certain.

I can talk to the ghost
He doesn't talk back,
He tries to throw ectoplasm
But his aim is out of whack,
Although he manages to frighten
The ones who see him not,
I guess I'm some kind of emissary
The only friend he's got.

Everywhere I've worked
There has always been a ghost,
I think he's a greeter for death
Like your friendly Walmart host,
Essentially, non-threatening
Offering his invisible, twisted smile,
A member of the welcome wagon
With his own peculiar style.

There have been she-ghosts
But they bear a different role,
As experts of duplicity
They come to recognize the soul,
Do an assessment of lifetime value
The good and bad and the duration,
Flip a coin and do the numbers
For the ultimate destination.

All in all, I count my blessings
For the role I chose to play,
There are wonderful people I work with
Each and every day,
And when unending streams of visitors
Fray my nerves like overcooked toast,
I can stick my head in the housekeeping closet
And talk to my friend the ghost.

Sparkle Girl visited for Christmas
She's 5-1/2 going on 13,
A mesmerizing bundle of energy
If you know what I mean,
She can demonstrate TikTok videos
Knows all the dance steps and ****** expressions,
She has no clue what the words mean
Nor their lasting impressions.

Dramatic distress
Some people display,
When they are trying
To have things their way

Dramatic impress
Is their method and plan,
Get everyone's attention
Like an earthquake in Japan.

Dramatic finesse
Self-trained, she's a master,
Oh, what would I give for
My Stokes-Adams blaster,
Holstered on my hip
For situations such as this,
A dramatic departure
With flame and a hiss.

I have never trusted
The testing of IQ,
Who is smarter
Me or you?
Yesterday, I scored one-forty
Last week an eighty,
After a night of boozing
'Twas my birthday, matey.

When I was a kid
I thought it meant, I’m cute testing,
I got really good scores
My destiny was manifesting,
But then I became awkward
When I hit thirteen,
My popularity plummeted
If you know what I mean.

IQ, I’m cute
Don’t go hand in hand,
Some of the smartest folks
Are dorky and bland,
And your **** stud boyfriend
Might be dumber than a post,
That’s why I don’t trust the testing
Nor do I ever boast.

At the river
I fantasized,
If you fell in
Your boat capsized,
As you swept away
I would leap or dive,
Doing what I could
To keep you alive.

But what if I pushed you
To create the disaster,
I would swim to your side
Swifter and faster,
Than the turbulent waters
To save you from harms,
Just a devious way
To get you into my arms.

I could say you weren't breathing
And place my mouth to your lips,
I could listen over your heart
And palpate your hips,
I could do all those things
With an innocent guile,
But would you knock me out cold
Or let me see your sweet smile?

At the river I dreamed
As the water streamed by,
No need for me to explain
Why I awoke with a sigh.