Blame

I could blame Nature or the Creator for my less than stellar looks—

The cockeyed arrangement of eyes, nose and ears, the twisted and

Pursed lips which ingratiate my head and face.

I could blame my parents and teachers for the trivial drivel and neurosis

Which infect my brain. It may have been the “Please” and “Thank Yous”

I did and did not say which brought me to this place.

I could blame William the Conqueror for winning the Battle at Hastings in

1066, an indelible date and place my mind can’t erase. I could blame the

Electoral College for electing Donald Trump as President of the United States.

I could blame flawed genetics or poor nutritional choices for my warped and

Deteriorating physical and mental state. Misconducted relationships, arthritic

Shoulders and hips—Lord knows, there’s plenty of blame to go around.

I am willing to accept my share of shit which has taken place, but with

Absolute surety I can say, it was not I who clogged the toilet this morning:

You see, I have been constipated now for several days.

Chris Hanch 1-7-17