(funny, not funny)
Alone at home
writing a poem
about how
forgetfulness
gets worse
with aging,
when,
oh gloom and doom,
smoke fills the room,
and
the alarm,
my attention
is paging.
I think it’s time
to end my rhyme
and
put out the
fire before
it’s raging.
Somebody burned
his dinner, again!
I wonder who.