Incoherent…

I do herein vent,

My coherency heaven sent,

Sometimes I do seem to go through such torment,

Not very often do I see things straight,

When I do, I think things in the world are great!

Those other times that I find myself lacking,

Any knowledge of self, that is when I am slacking,

On top of one another my thoughts they are stacking,

When I am not coherent my mind sends me packing…

What the hell is this poem all about?

Certainly it has nothing to do with being devout,

As this writer rarely goes in that direction,

Maybe his brain is just getting the gout…?

Thoughts all a jumble,

They seem to want to get out and rumble,

The writer herein must have taken a tumble,

Landing on his head, a pile of players on top, after a fumble…

High he has not gotten,

His wagon he has stayed on,

Attached himself he did with a seatbelt,

On the back of his head, from the tumble, he has such a welt…

                © ed ~ 10/2/04