I'm not the kind of guy who wants a solid 30 minutes of creativity to go unnoticed. Therefore, I decided to publish a poem I wrote answering the request of one of the car companies for short notes, videos and audio recordings offering a diary of what each of us did during the WuFlu lockdown. Attention has turned away from the WuFlu, but my verse, I think, still resonates.
WuFlu Blues
by D.R. Heaps
I like me the way that I am.
I like bacon more than ham.
I like the Steelers of the NFL.
Belichick and his Patriots can go to
hell.
I like good bourbon and I like beer.
I like pizza and the flank of a steer.
I like writing about and videoing cars.
I agree: Women are from Venus, Men are
from Mars
All that seemed to matter mere weeks
ago.
That was before the pandemic. WuFlu,
you know.
What transpired in a short amount of
time
Brought the world to a halt; it stopped
on a dime
Doc Fauci took over; man, what a tool.
Shutter every business. Close every
school.
Close the parks and the beaches, too.
Wear a mask or shame on you.
Like obedient little serfs we hunkered
down.
Stayed in our homes, stayed out of
town.
We did it in the name of flattening the
curve.
Those medical resources must be conserved.
Back at home, we lounged about.
We didn't work, we didn't go out.
Frustrated and furloughed from my
biggest gig
I was gaining weight, fat as a pig.
Sitting on my ass is never okay.
If only there was an alternative for
spending the day.
A voice began screaming inside my head.
Do a project, get busy, don't wait, it
said.
For years, renovating the kitchen lurked
in the back of my mind.
But, where to get the money, and where
to find the time.
Money can be borrowed, the devil on my
shoulder cried.
And you've got time spilling from your
ass, the angel replied.
Determination and a shed full of power
tools are all you need.
When it comes to home improvement, I
can do it, that's my creed.
Ripping out cabinets, tearing things
up.
Demoing a kitchen doesn't suck
The fridge, the oven, it all must go.
Are new appliances expensive? I don't
know.
Out with the old, in with the new.
Something borrowed, something blue.
Don't hesitate. Don't stop to think.
Step on the gas. Wait, take a drink.
A sip of bourbon every day.
That's the spirit. Was that a cliché?
I spent money as if I was making it.
Dumping cash by the bucket down the
kitchen pit.
What I didn't know how to do, I faked.
Not spending a nickel on labor at
stake.
This house is old, built on a wing and
a prayer.
How old, you ask. Apparently older than
the level and square.
With nothing level and nothing plumb,
Renovating is a fool's errand. Man, I'm
dumb.
Relocating the sink was a dicey chore.
Plumbing is tough, there were leaks
galore.
Flooring down, cabinets set, appliances
in, it's nearly done.
Not so fast, cowboy. There's more to do
and more to come.
More than the cabinets, appliances or
floor,
The countertop nearly broke the store.
Then there's the backsplash remaining
to do.
I think maybe I bit off more than I can
chew.
Renovating was a job needing done.
Now, the kitchen war is nearly won.
Yes, I spent too much money with no
income in sight,
But, hey, it's only money, right? Holy
Christmas, I hope that's right.
