Well, at least you meant well Intended to get sober Quit smoking Start yr novel again– Say yes next time When he asked you to dance. Cut to: Tomorrow morning & how did that work out? Another stone laid flat For the head or for the feet With an epitaph etched inches deep: “Here lies Les Moore “No Les, no more.” Cemetery Hill is covered o’er With such pretty pretty pavement A Spoon River Highway Spread from here to Hades. Be better Eat right Pray, luv, etc Don’t die don’t die don’t die With every intention of enduring Forever– Emphasis on this Durance Vile A congame to sell soapsudz unto Eternity When even soft drinks have a Mission Statement Preset with the requisite regrets Those are the real Concrete. I’ve decided to unfetter To jettison & otherwise defenestrate That which doth not serve me– Vowing now to live a cleaner, Leaner, simpler, straighter, dryer, Carb-free, grateful, meaningful, rested, Invested– So pure it floats So help me Dog. That’s the plan anyway.
Rockin' Rudy, the drummer in one of my better bands, made such an oath to the second liver transplant he didn't get to whiskey again. Words on the air thirty years ago sweared, unstuck from the plan: He keeps my memory greened.
I smiled at “So help me Dog.” It captures the whole poem for me—the mix of sincerity, self-awareness, and the quiet suspicion that we'll probably make the same promises again tomorrow. Beneath the humor there's something very human: the realization that good intentions can become their own kind of pavement if we never actually take the first step.
I live on chunky soup, peanut butter and cheese and plan on living to 100 I'm 75 now. So help me Dog
Great plan!
https://youtu.be/qztuEucrNBc?si=R1BtkKjl17ykWjLN
I can do it!
I cannot stick to the plan
My brain was made that way
Like they say, God laughs when man makes plans
Rockin' Rudy, the drummer in one of my better bands, made such an oath to the second liver transplant he didn't get to whiskey again. Words on the air thirty years ago sweared, unstuck from the plan: He keeps my memory greened.
Best laid plans of mice and men
I smiled at “So help me Dog.” It captures the whole poem for me—the mix of sincerity, self-awareness, and the quiet suspicion that we'll probably make the same promises again tomorrow. Beneath the humor there's something very human: the realization that good intentions can become their own kind of pavement if we never actually take the first step.
Every morning I wake up fully intending to do things differently