82 Years of Memories

82 years of memories
Make me a mixed-up chick.
Part of me’s a writer;
Parts can’t write a lick.

Maybe I’m a Renaissance woman,
‘Cause I know a lot about nothing.
Or maybe I’m just a bum—and
My poems are coming and going.

I paint portraits,
Not necessarily for a living.
So if you need your grandkids done,
I just might be in a mood for giving.

But don’t count on it.

I dream of Key West,
Hemingway in his wrinkled white suit,
Straw hats gathered, all sharing
Questions that are moot.

Creative folks are different.
Their heads spin and spiral with words.
They are drunk with inspiration—
The sublime and the absurd.

Well, as Forrest Gump would say,
“That’s all I got to say”
so if it doesn’t make much sense
I was inspired by Hemmingway

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