Earl Grey is not my Friend
Scabby knees is what I look for; I need to be with those who climb, not those who slide. I hate to say it, but looking cool and sitting on the sidelines does nothing for me or my sobriety. I have to build those calluses, require patches in my clothes, carry a hammer to pound in those spikes. If I don’t see tools in your hands and bodily evidence that you have been using them, I really don’t have time for you. This is a “let’s go, lets go” kind of recovery for me and if it isn’t for you then have fun and I hope you have a good seat, but I am not staying for your tea party; I have no time for tarts.
Explain the difference between a rabbit and a bunny
A sloth is known by the number of its toes
Not its name or love of art or music.
The oddest attributes draw attention and acclaim
From scorekeepers and flag-wavers of the world.
Going my way in this life I am seen by clock-watchers
As timeless and by trumpeters as soundless.
I am not defined by these.
The number of my toes or the time I keep
Or the sound I make is more than who I am.
An explanation of me will not fit on an index card
Or nameplate or job title.
As long as I stay clear of these traps
And classifications I am safe.
If I buy in or fall down
My sum and total will neatly fit on a toe tag.
You are reading selections from More Sober on the Way to Sane and Lines From My Life by Sherrie Theriault