I live a simple life now; I handle life as it is dished up. I no longer need to make use of the dish prison. Living an orderly active life I find it untenable to have my favorite spoon or bowl held hostage until I make enough mess to run the dishwasher through. I don’t live an ‘Eight is Enough’ type existence and need not burden my psyche trying to save my hands a little soap. I save the Cascade for visits to waterfalls, Jet Dry for landing strips.
Smile with all the parts of your face
Why do you practice death like it were a skill?
Do you fear you lack ability, or because it’s your goal
Have you made it your hobby?
Beleaguered by the questions of my sponsor
I search quickly for some believable response.
I confused calm with death
And thought I was practicing the former.
Death came for a holiday
How could I refuse it.
It’s a test drive, if I like it I can keep it.
My sponsor doesn’t think I’m funny.
Check your motives, wants and desires,
Make sure death is what you really want,
That it’s not just your fallback position
Because you fear life.
Don’t get me wrong
I hope death is a good thing
But why try to chew tomorrows food
When your plate is full of today?
You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault