What happens when reality,
catches up with your plans?
Already so far down the Alphabet
I'm worried about soon triggering
the real Zombie Apocalypse.
"Plan A's a loser"
Like so many before
as Tango and Cash decided once
when dealing with "Potato Head"
moving to Plan B.
Bees did not deliver,
failing to sting my foes,
so on to plan C then,
as the tide ebbed out
nixing the 'Shark Whistle'.
Plans dee, ee, eff
all never materialized very clearly
involving certain modes of words
that refused to flow out
when direly needed then.
Plans flew by fast
in my head those days,
as situations kept evolving new twists
they could not navigate safely
around Life's 'Dead-man's Curve'.
Now on Plan S,
Pounding Sand in frustration's throes,
as things keep slipping through fingers
even stories going wildly off
into uncharted mental regions.
So it goes on,
the game of bizarre strategies,
praying for just one, stationary target
to grab and make work
as I try regrouping.
What is Plan Z?
Walk out onto Bonneville's bed,
with a baseball bat and cokes,
to enjoy some batting practice
killing Zombies with spitballs
made of bones
that Lake
left.
15August2014 - Dyfedd Rex, midst searching for work.
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