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.

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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?

 

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