Since I finished my short story draft for the Writer’s Games and need to let it sit a bit before the final edit, I thought I would wander over to the dVerse Poets Pub where it’s Monday Quadrille day. Today’s word to put into my 44 word poem is “fix.”
Mr. Fix-it
He has always been Mr. Fix-it
he can fix anything
every motor, structure, even nature
bends to his will eventually
But this time admit
he can’t fix this
the right part isn’t online
WD40 won’t loosen this screw
no spray will discourage this scourge
I actually thought about trying to ‘fix’ the pandemic when reading your poem. Of course that’s impossible. Nice write.
Thank you.
I would try with 5:56 but sometimes it’s still stuck
It requires tools we haven’t invented yet…(K)
So true.
Those are my primary tools as well. I doubt if even duct tape would help.
Unless we can spin the tape backwards to when we started effing up and took another path, we’re done for.
Sounds so much like my dad. Brilliant take on the word fix, thank you.
My father inspired the poem. 🙂 Glad you enjoyed it.
Alas, he has meant his match.
What??? An enigma not solved by WD40? Impossible!
🙂
Wish it was that easy, for sure. I liked this. 🙂
Thank you.