tp-roll

The gentle updraft helped propel the vulture ahead

It was breakfast time and he was looking for something dead.

He’d seen a possum yesterday by the side of the road

But it was gone, “We ate it all,” the ravens crowed

Damn birds always sneaking around and eating someone’s lunch

“Oh well,” hoped the vulture. “I guess I’ll settle for brunch.”

By dinnertime his wings were tired and his stomach starting to growl

By now he wasn’t choosy just hoping for something not too foul

When a dot caught his eye by an outcropping of rocks

“Oh good, hopefully that’ll be a nice fat fox.”

But as he circled and expanding his wings for a landing

His feet touched something soft, he came to a repulsive understanding

Why no other animal was feasting on this piece of fresh protein

It had wide white stripe and the overwhelming stench of chlorine

But his stomach was howling and though it truly stunk

Caution went to the wind as sometimes you have to eat the skunk

Such is the same with all life, just like every couple

The everyday annoyances of life they learn to juggle

Life is never smooth there are many patches that are rough

The wise will say it’s those patches that makes one tough

Some foolishly rail on over a broken nail while others not enough to eat

To most it’s the everyday routine that knocks them off their feet

Starting in the morning with the slow brake tapper in the fast lane

Putting the finger waving tailgater on your bumper shouting something profane

And finding in your car park that someone’s taken your spot

So you park fifty yards away in the gravel and dirt auxiliary lot

Stepping gingerly through the chewing gum, broken glass and dog poo

Hoping you don’t bring a souvenir to the office on your shoe

Tedious morning meetings spent trying not to look down a co workers blouse

Or you’ll be accused of having elevator eyes and branded a sexist louse

Here’s a clue for those displaying cleavage and then acting offended

Use that second or third button for what it is intended

Days are squandered tapping into phone menus and watching the computer buffer

Nodding to your boss’s impossible quotas with breath that would make a fly suffer

So you stare at the floor nodding, trying to avoid the breath

That certainly could cause seizures or maybe even death

The days roll on precise in their monotonous routine

Your lunch goes missing as do your stamps and tape by thieves unseen

There’s no paper in the toilet and someone’s peed on the floor

Five can’t get here quick enough to beeline out the door

The road rage appears again in the sweltering afternoon

This time it’s a pickup being driven by a drunk looking goon

But he drives on satisfied that you know you drive like a blind old granny

And you drive on laughing that fluid was pouring out of his tranny

You arrive home just thankful that you don’t trip over any of the kids’ toys

When your wife approaches and asks you to see what’s causing her car’s noise

So you’re back in the hot garage muttering “Who would’ve thunk

That there are many days in life where you have to eat the skunk.”