Twice Right, Never On Time
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Twice Right, Never On Time
I’ve taken to success the way a teapot takes to boiling—loud, inevitable, and slightly unhinged.
The world of governance in 2026 is a long table set for argument, every chair already warm with someone else’s certainty. Splendid! I thrive in the steam of it. Got these ears, I hear everything. While kings juggle headlines like flaming scones, I butter my bread with chaos and call it breakfast.
“Choose a side,” they say. I choose the front side of the clock—always wrong, always right twice, and never invited to explain itself. Progress is a dance where everyone insists on leading; I prefer to trip forward, grinning, pockets full of mismatched truths.
Success, you see, is not climbing the ladder—it’s sawing off a rung and selling it as firewood while the others argue about height. Tea?
—--
Boiling teapot laughs,
Clocks lie, truth trips into place—
Rungs burn; tea is hot.
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Your haibun captured the madness of the age, Chris, especially ‘While kings juggle headlines like flaming scones, I butter my bread with chaos and call it breakfast.’ And I enjoyed the surrealism of your haiku.
ReplyDeleteNice work, man; I esp dig you closing (prose portion) ladderlines. Cheers.
ReplyDeleteAt least you put an entertaining spin on the chaos, Chris! Good one. (this is lynn)
ReplyDelete