Is he pretentious,
talented,
whimsical,
or just exhausted
and silly?
At last,
he is writing,
worried about what others think.
He hasn’t done that
in a long time.
He hasn’t cared.
Is he pretentious,
talented,
whimsical,
or just exhausted
and silly?
At last,
he is writing,
worried about what others think.
He hasn’t done that
in a long time.
He hasn’t cared.
When someone tells you/
your issues aren’t their concern,/
you should believe them.
I was wondering/
if she’d like my gifts, but she’s/
done, so I don’t care.
It’s that morning when/
nobody contacts you on/
Facebook: You don’t care!
I don’t care if she/
dries her clothes on a rack ‘cuz/
her Maytag’s busted.
I don’t remember/
clothes being so warm, but at/
this point, I don’t care.
Or
I don’t recall my/
clothes being so warm. At this/
point, I do not care.
To all those who think /
there’s a Conspiracy:
What I say now may brink/
on pure heresy.
I’ve heard a lot/
what they have to share./
I’ll tell them what:/
I don’t really care!
I’d rather focus my time/
and attention/
on fixing myself;/
on mind, heart and soul reinvention.
For it’s best, when my changed self is unfurled,/
that I can join with God and help change my world.
I don’t care. I don’t/
care. I don’t care, I don’t care,/
I don’t care. I don’t.
A friend started a poem called “Brigham’s Menace” by saying:
“As we danced
And you glanced
If anyone was offended,
None was Intended…”
To which I responded (in a hospital-post-op-drug-induced haze):
Don’t Be Embarrassed! Dance Near Me! (aka “Since when do you care what others think?”)
If disapproving looks are all you see,/
maybe next time you should dance near me.
As we get on our funky groove/
and show these other guys how to move,/
our partners will also dance worry free./
And all those others out there? /
The ones with the disapproving stare?/
We’ll just put throw our hands in the air,/
put our hands in the air/
put our hands in the air/
Air air air,
like we just don’t care!/
Because we don’t.