The Modern Curmudgeon

Script written, the weight has been lifted

Which means now the burden has shifted

To the folks in the suits

Whose notes of no use

Will confirm that they're not very gifted.

"I'm going to work" he explained The shirt he'd put on that day "Well you look to me Quite like a worker bee" "Actually, Dad, he said, "worker A."

Tomorrow I turn 41. What to do once these limericks are done? Will my idle hands seek Out some evil unspeak- able once this new freedom's begun?

To ashes, and once more to dust We consecrate you, here entrust You to unending sea And to eternity Swallow hard. Soldier on. As we must.

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