Pennies and dollars.
Dollars and sense.
Today was a cheap day-
it didn’t make cents.
Today was a strange one,
like a duck out of row.
It mixed all my metaphors.
It rained on my snow.
Today smelled so strangely,
like rancid red wine.
It turned normal moonlight
into feisty moonshine.
It made tiny puppies
cry out with joy,
by crumbling my sanity
into a chew toy.
Today was an odd thing,
like a folk-singing flea–
But it evened my life up,
so it didn’t bug me.
Illustrations from the Nuremberg Chronicle, by Hartmann Schedel (1440-1514)
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I’m sort of fond of the days that don’t even make enough sense to pull a story from them. What about you? Do you like your days of the normal persuasion, or do you like them all wonky?