Roadblock
Cortisone reduces my bruised ego,
when spiked with a scathing aside to my protégé.
My eldest girl is in hireling bliss,
his shirt done up with bolo affectation.
The dark ages descent is hastened by the lack of standards.
Wrist curls in the lavatory,
lend me another unexpected source of strength.
Blot away the perspiration,
redab the underside of my forearm’s prominent veins,
But anti-heroes joined in sullen cacophony have its appeal.
My memoir is on the daily schedule,
to elucidate what is civil.
I am a monk transcribing in the violent shade.
* Paul Handley spent a career as a student and a student of odd jobs.
