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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