These hands, today,
Are not mine, surely.
They make the motions,
So demurely.
Minding their own purpose, purely.
Bent on insurrection.
Brush my teeth with shaving cream.
Comb my hair with Vaseline.
Perhaps it all is just a dream,
But in the wrong direction.
Coffee mug all prepped and ready.
Loopy legs are still unsteady.
Grind the beans, they smell so heady.
The nose detects perfection.
Pouring water, I’m betrayed.
The rebel digits, they have played
Another trick, and I’m afraid
Of mutinous defection.
The coffee beans, they’ve put into
My oatmeal dish, to make a stew.
There is no other point of view!
This surely needs correction.
Aremyfeetofftheground 
OK. You are NOT a morning person. Join the club. 😉
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Gettin’ worse all the time.
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Know what you mean. Even my dogs are sleeping past 8 now.
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They are smarter than the average bear.
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And they are just Cocker Spaniels!
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I don’t actually know, but I’ll bet we’ll find out if you do!
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Be aware that for our kind no amount of correction is sufficient, and des-PAAAAIR!!
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That is a pretty bleak outlook…..
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Well, look at the sunny side — would you want NOT to be able to write all this excellent verse?
Besides, it was supposed to be funny. Did that get through?
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Oh yes….I guess my sarcasm didn’t (laugh out loud)
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We can just chalk that up to my complete social obtusiosity (?!?)
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Is that even a word? If so, may I use it?
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