Feeling Feisty

Though she is quick to learn
& admittedly clever,
her natural doubt of herself
should make her so weak
that she dabbles brilliantly
in half a dozen talents
& thus embellishes
but does not change
our life….

So sayeth the Jongmeister.
I feel rather feisty when I face down the all-talk and no-action clown who tries to hold me back.
Clown schmown, I ain’t gonna go crawdaddin’ back into my hidey hole of an excuse-maker Mazie personifying cop-outs
and bow-outs and blow-offs.
I’m going to crazy-town this wimp-freak fear-frump right the eff back to the reclusial museless refuse heap I’d habituated.
What a whacked-out normalcy belief I’ve bought into.
‘I gotta be me’ sung to tap dancing and high leaps… Shee-ee-eesh. Show this crackpot of parody to the closest door, please.
Feisty-riding high, and I am, (high on writing) I can say it with a straight face: “O, (D’Oh!) I am fortune’s fool! . . . (well then)
Then I defy you stars!” Good ol’ Willy Shakes! For me and mine, once again … Write!
Do write, and do it as well as you possibly can, and as often as you can (like, everyday).
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