Back At The Ranch

Just wasting time, should be doing something else.

Teens pine away at lost love,
even though they probably
haven't lived long enough
to understand what love
truly means, and yet I'm
the jaded m**********r
for ruining their hopes
and dreams and all that

I don't know, maybe I'm
just a romantic who had
their rose-colored glasses
broken by three successive
Chuck Norris kicks,
one to the face,
one to the torso,
one to the groin

Chuck Norris tells me he
can divide by zero and he
yells at me to grow the f**k up
and get over it, all the while
Don Henley and Denis Leary
are laughing at my rotundity

So I'll go back and remove
the scattered islands and continents
of paint and foam backing from the
concrete floor in the one room where
my spouse keeps her secret hobbies

You know the ones I'm talking about,

Not the one where we keep the
whips, chains and handcuffs,
you foul-minded reader you,

I'm talking about her crocheting materials,
and card-making materials

And meanwhile, back at the ranch,
Tonto is disguised as a pool table about
ready to have his ball racked