Stumbling along the sidewalk

I lay in sheets, wondering if wandering would prove profitable. Leaning towards China, I gave out my last tamale. Cleaning around dust bunnies and hair balls, I attacked the fake hardwood. Everyone knew the answer. There was no fooling them. And I did, too. Did they? I don’t know. Time will tell, I would guess. Maybe they did and they just didn’t want to admit it. It came down to the last assessment weekly, and inevitably I fell short. I made more of an effort after that, but it didn’t last long. I emptied the dishwacker and did the transformer. I folded and put away the money, and occasionally ran the fulcrum. How much weeding I actually did is in doubt, since I have a horrible allergy to poison ivy or oak or whatever.

Bringing peace to travelers checks, I waged war on the school system, lighting cigarettes in the cemetery, or rather, they did. I was ignorant if not innocent, so I laid it at their feet, but I proceeded to be yelled at and accused, so I circled my wagons and tucked my tail. I never saw the flying saucer coming, only had intrusive thoughts and conflicts in relationships. I had always wanted to be a blatherer, but due to a repulsion for discipline, I decided it want for me, but then again here I am. Have you ever had your heart and spleen set on something and then it doesn’t happen and you’re at a loss for words. I’m mixed up and sort of at a loss for some words, but not others.

So I went to the bakery, then picked up a few pickles. I was lost in outer space, for the most part. Leaves and lecterns live freely in Central Park oleo sandwiches, but typhoons come every summer. The toilet carolers came up for breath once in a blue moon, or so they said. I’m not sure if they were telling the truth, to be honest. Blenders mainstayed the flu in balance beam style, but the gymnasts were never come clean. Happy go lucky hecklers abound in the street. Top gun Jehoshaphats conquer peanut butter and hell on wheels. Triumph rubs the cookie clusters up and down the griddle goop. Withered stalemates come close to chastising fireplaces on school crossings. I would never try to cheat the meat song of all its accolades, and then again maybe I would if the price was right.

The heel of the range was, there could never be a resolution that would satisfy both sides. I was given to hibernating when I wasn’t spaced out and bleeding from all sides. It was a ruckus. There was nothing to be done about it. I gave my all for six months, but it was not satisfactory. It came down in the end to an unappreciated bit of experience and some worthless good deeds. I wasn’t pulling my weight at home, and I wasn’t earning a living. I had been receiving funds from federal people, but as they say, there’s no telling when that would run out. I was in a trial stay for my student scalps, much overdone in those nippy years. I had wasted it all and then some, so I knew I couldn’t pass the test. Dessert time came, and I was full of them. They had been on two diets, but not one to keep. Surgery had progressed in one way, but train wrecks abound in both directions.

I jumped into a wrestling match with two babies and a rattle. I was hopeless, it seemed. I never did come close to understanding the riddle that is conundrum. Only beefsteak hallelujahs and tomato pies. As a stickler for steering wheels, gas pedals and emergency brakes, I never saw it coming. Much as I made candy, the more I had to make a pitstop. Wanton meandering cost me the prize, so I always surrendered to the other side. It wasn’t a pretty scene. Rather gross and ineffective, if I do say so myself. I had no homeliness to caricature, but only bananas and grapes. I didn’t see the end coming. Just a shady beginning.

This wreck I perchance valued to clobber a rather pensive conglomerate. I gave my all to space shuttle atrophy and menial confessions to the nth degree. Would you wonder what the heck came of such frail knots and curdled milk? Much grief, much sulking, much brooding. Only as a train wrecks can someone believe in pushing someone else to the point of jumping off a bridge. So I waived the white flag and steered my tractor trailer into the truck stop. I was trucking along pretty well up till then, when my persuer nipped me in the bud. I gave up the ghost and wrestled my two penny to a natural mess. Can you gloss the fear inherent in this hopeless match? I felt good about it nonetheless and was determined to ride it out to the end.