Roll With It

 

Roll With It

I fell out of some of

the trees I climbed 

as a kid in the ‘70s

and also off one roof.

I slammed my finger 

in a car door,

was thrown off a horse,

and was hit

by a car 

and lived.

My mama missed 

the squirrel and 

ricochet-shot me 

when I swung between 

her and the

moving target. 

I also got my ass beat 

when I deserved it

and I learned to move on. 

So thank God I don’t 

require the use 

of a bidet 

at every sitting 

for a too-tender tush. 

I wouldn’t want to be 

one of those 

Princess-and-the-Pea types

whose world 

falls apart 

over 

cheap toilet paper. 

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