Going to work in my garden this morning,
Gonna try hard to ignore the intense evil
that surrounds, the crisis at the border,
Our adversaries’ threats. Just a few hours
in the garden and everything will be alright.
Sometimes in passing moments of weakness
I feel anxious about finding a new job,
a hobby, an appropriate past time,
But I know I won’t keep it long, too long,
I’ll just create a reason to leave it.
Cause I stopped needing more stinking money,
Slave wages you think you are entitled
to pay for my contribution to your bottom line.
I’d rather spend my time writing these poems.