When I was very young I had the attention span of a goldfish. School reports frequently said something to the effect of, ‘shows promise but little focus’ or ‘could do better with the application of effort’. And then, miraculously, I went through a period of some productivity in my early middle age. I think that things started to go downhill again at about the age of 35.
And now, as I stumble into senility, I can’t really concentrate on anything for more than about 5 minutes anymore- hence my spasmodic postings on this site. I was determined to do just something …. anything …. this morning, and looked toward one of my trusted muses, Cyranny, and found this here, concerning the word ‘scarlet’.
I devoted about 2 minutes to the project before losing interest and direction.
I offer it, nonetheless, in unedited, uncensored and unfinished form, as an indication of both how my mind works and how it doesn’t.
Please be patient with an old man.
Just let me be
Your bitch. Not your wife
I’ve a taste for your money
For your rich waste of life
I’d much rather feel
Like a whore than a bore
She’s your toast, I’m your honey
You could not ask for more
I’m Scarlet the Harlot
What do you think?
I’m a dream, I’m a starlet
Won’t you buy me a drink?