I CAN'T BE FILED!

If I can remember right, I did something today
I woke up right but I ended up bent
I dressed up for work, and had net stockings on
But when I came home, they were all gone.


I sat on my chair, heard voices again
Thought it was the gremlins inside me,
Geez, it's the girl right behind me.


I call her blabber mouth or sometimes motor mouth
she has this uncanny speedy gonzales talker in her
either you hate her or you H-A-T-E her more....
I thought there was no choice
Until the angels came down from heaven
When manna falls, it pours
I even hoped that time
I should have worn a hobo skirt instead of a mini
So that I could have gathered more manna.
But the mini may have helped me
for when the doc called me in the afternoon
Did a little talking here and there
Braced myself so that I won't go weeping
about that one girl with the big mouth, the stressor,
the trigger, and the auditory stimulus
of my temporal lobe activity.
A filing room---considered first for me to sit in
as my workstation, I could try I said but I also don't think
it's suitable considering the first thing my head
would hit is a steel cabinet.


I can't believe it but the manna was the
ISO back up, medical advise, THE
hope that no one interferes, STILL a big unsure smile
and SOON a suitable workroom full of quiet and peace.
Aside from all these, I did sorts of things today
Which I need not mention
One thing is important
My work is done for now...EPILEPSY...is not a joke.


You trigger it, you poke it, you jiggle it, you choke it,
I joke if I can take it or I croak.
For me, it's not a matter of choice anymore,
but a matter of luck.


NOW, NOBODY CAN FILE ME!