Humor

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I was late for work today,
I got stuck behind an old man having sex with his ear using his little finger.
I was reminded of an obese pet having his belly rubbed in conditioned air,
his leg twitching and dancing like a flag whipping in the breeze.

He was going nowhere,
Slowly.
Purposely disrupting our blurred lives as if he had earned the right too,
frantically excavating the buried treasure
somewhere near his brain stem.
Several uninvited lucky guests were swept up into his macabre dance,
following our twisted drum major in his “Excrement On Parade”.

I secretly hoped that the extraction of ear waste would somehow bring purpose, longevity and deep satisfaction to this lonely soul.
But alas, he gazed experientially at his prize
perched high atop his pinky,
then callously jettisoned it, narrowly
missing my windshield.

As he slothed along, leading his procession of
angry worker Bee’s, I felt better about my life.
Like I had just seen a man with no feet
while scratching a toe through the hole in my shoe.

Our brief irritation came to end as he turned down a street called Nowhither
and introduced another appendage to a somewhat attractive cavern,
In the center of his face.

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