To bitch or not to bitch: That is the question:

Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to bluster

on the sad continuation of miseries befallen

Or to climb still higher upon thy soap filled box

To grab a bar and strike it to the ground

Where the froth and bubbles of thy sweet reaction

Will cleanse the orbs of blue

And preserve, nay remove thy brassy tarnish

To expose the true petulant nature of thy love stones

Washing away thy fickle berries whose dingles dangle

and wave in the slightest breeze ported by the mothic

accomplishments of thy loom’s weariest fruit exposing

thy ring whose all seeing brown eye expresses

that which seeks approval for pain bestowed

upon his fellow readers the constant encouragement

by which conscience endures the daily calamities

and catastrophes whose sorry complaint evokes

only that which hardens thy resolve to deflect

the obsessive oppression of thy brother

the Wee of Pee whose barbs of truth ricochet off

thy mighty shield of admission whose very strength

in nature paralyzes the pangs of frailty and humility

requiring each of us the acknowledgment

that thy posterior discomfort is but fleeting

Copyright 2011 Patrick Granfors