Wilma knew exactly what to do with that GD toilet her lazy ass husband Harold still hadn’t hauled out of the back yard. “When life gives you lemons. . .”, she thought, as she dumped the potting soil in the tank and bowl, and proceeded to plant the flowers she’d bought at the Piggly Wiggly earlier. She was so pleased with her idea, she hadn’t even bothered to take the curlers out of her hair that morning before running to the market, and just tied a scarf over her head, and slapped on a little coral lipstick. She couldn’t wait to be sitting in the lawn chair with a cold beer in her hand when Harold pulled up after work, so she could see the look on his face when he saw her new planter.
FUNNY!! But I think I lived next door to that lady once!! I like this new you!
I always see pictures like these and make up stories in my mind about who they are and what they’re thinking, so I decided to write it down. I won’t be able to stopen writing depressing poetry though. 😉
Cool…keep writing them. And depressing poetry is better than no poetry, eh? Keep doing that, too.
I try. Some days the words won’t come.