Fucking Moods

The mood is a slippery mother.  Wrote in my “therapy notebook” the other day:
 
Wrestling with demonically limber moods,
you cannot count on their sportsmanship, 
they grapple by their own rules, 
if any, 
as the frequent knees and elbows to the groin 
will keep reminding you.
 
Hah!

Leave a comment