Composition: Problutions and Solutions

There’s enough
reverse calculations to
know, at least one person
owes a tank of inspirate.
There’s enough
reverse math to know,
the numbers don’t add
up anymore.

Looking for solutions?
Look under your nose.
One just passed by, unnoticed and alone.
Looking for problems?
Look under your nose.
One just passed by, unnoticed and alone.

Thought you missed it? That it’s too late?
Think again, mate, mate, mate, mate and mate.

~Imma hit the floor when you hit the floor,
Imma hit the floor when you hit the floor.~

I look again. Look up, left, right, down and in between.
Because it’s these things, overlooked,
almost every time that fails my dream,
that often do matter and too often sting.
They told us that everything mad-hatters.
The steak is rotting upon the platter or maybe the bread?
You like skim milk?
Well, then pour it on top your own head,
or your favorite flavor:

( Hot chocolate bomb-saver.
Boom-boom, later . . . A newly printed 3D-Bunny player )

So, I say: Where’s my 2s at? Where’s my 2s at?
Where’s my club at? Where’s my club at?
Where’s my love at? Where’s my love at?
Imma hit the floor when you hit the floor,
Imma hit the floor when you hit the floor.
So, Imma hit you at, where’s my club at . . .
Imma hit you at, where’s my club at . . .
Let’s do the time four, do the time four,
do the time four, the time four.
Cora’s last words, Cora’s last words.
Cora’s last words, Cora’s last words.

We gotta go and get the money. What?
Go and get the money. What?
Trumpet like a twenty. What?
Trumpet like a twenty. What?

© 2021 —S.D. McKinley

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