by

Robert H. Dirr Jr.

I used to mingle with the remains of my dead friends at the
Winton Cafe or Poor Michael's Drinkery or even in the
Solitude of my room with reliable Captain Jack and a pipe
Filled with the good stuff, but those days have died.

I thought about my soon-to-be-ex-wife but it was more depressing
Than picking body parts out of a tree, like so many apples,
Or visiting the family of a friend who died way before his time.
Still, I try to deal with the subjects I have to deal with.

Blood and guts can be tedious, but between the lines are subtle
Messages that need to be heard and understood if for no one but
Myself. You see, my garden party continues and ends with
"You can't please everyone so you've got to please yourself."

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