Tomorrow for the second step

I’m thinking time

for the next book,

fiction or otherwise,

bio- or auto-,

titled maybe

“Misdiagnosed, self-medicated, freely

associated and so on

and so forth”

sub-titled maybe

“A memoir of traps

in place and in time”

authored by Longing to Get Out

ghostwritten maybe

by Anything for a Buck

and published maybe

by Slow to Print Books & Son

thinking maybe that if the title

and sub-title and author’s name

and ghostwriter’s credit are

long enough and clear enough

the book itself can go short.

Page one would begin

because that is what page one does,

page two would begin

with a cliché

about journeys of self-discovery

and segue into

a discussion of agoraphobia

depression and related maladies

and my favorite vegetable

treatment, a topical ointment

guaranteed

to get the hero out the door

where what happens next

will not be therapeutic,

but colorful maybe

 and as the train of thought

rumbles on thinking

I’ll post this on Facebook maybe

and the train suddenly derails

with a roaring and a squealing

the hero somehow avoiding injury,

dragging himself home,

suffering a few cuts,

making somehow out of all of this
a silk potholder, if not a purse,

embroidering as finishing touch

“Tomorrow for the second step!”