Full Of Myself

My day began reluctantly.
I woke up an hour earlier than usual,
Even though the clocks sprung forward.

I knew I wouldn’t fall back asleep.
I rose and encountered a man with a clay mask.

He said to me,
“Greetings, foul one.”
And he stared forward.

I was appalled and annoyed.

These people come into my home
And speak insults at me?

I figured I could never work in those conditions.

I sat at the keyboard anyway.

Hours later,
I had fine tuned a song,
Assembled a couch,
Processed deep-seated grief, and
Made plans to call a friend.

The only thing foul about me
Are the voices of men covered in mud.
I ought to keep ignoring them.

Anyway, I carried on.
I took myself to the kitchen and cook-cook-cooked!

I checked my email.
“Hurt & Healing Poetry Contest closes tonight!”
Well,
I better get to that right away.

I plucked three pieces from the archives and sent them off,
Tied to the ankles of my finest carrier pigeons.

With dinner concluded,
There were two more matters to attend to.

The Big Share and
The Best Friend.

I called and talked and recounted.
I read cards for her
(They said: Every route is fulfilling!).
I made plans to visit next month.

She ended the call so I could finish the Big Share.
I conjured technical know-how and assembled a video.

May my grief-stricken words make their way through the algorithms,
To the souls who need them most!

So,
Anyway,
That was my big day!

I am filled to the tippy top with my own energy;
Absolutely full of myself!