Poetry by Pamela Schloesser Canepa
I’ll have to pass on that dish…
I’ve got a bad case of forty-ish.
You’re so generous and polite,
Oh maybe just a bite!
But after that, please don’t offer..
It may take days to recover
From the dairy-laden rich sweets,
That follow that tasty red meat.
And at my age, I choose carefully,
Can no longer eat guilt-free.
So, you say I’m not that old?
Let the true story be told!
Maybe it was the days of quick-meals,
When I followed my mom’s tired heels,
Or college, and my microwave,
Look at all the time it saved!
Maybe it was cooking cheap,
That made my colon seem to leap
Or the offer of drinks for free,
And can I have another please?
While we’re at it, don’t forget,
I rarely broke a kitchen sweat,
For all those times I left work late,
Can’t even tell you what I ate.
An excuse to hit the drive through
when dinner’s over due
and traffic took way too long,
while my baby sings his hungry song.
I can try to change the past
Of course we know I can’t.
So I’ve tried to change my ways,
but a little cheat is okay.
Please don’t forget what I’ve been through,
When I say no, it is not rude.
Let me maintain or break my own rules.
It should not reflect on you.