Mr. Brady Goes To The Doctor

As he is sitting, waiting patiently, our Mr. Brady
is thinking, “Man, I am lucky not to need a hearse!
Driving here, I was nearly run into by a little old lady.
Being elderly plus a woman, her driving is doubly cursed.

The doctor plans to check my blood pressure. Calm down.
Meditate! Try thinking of something dull and boring - work!
Work surely doesn’t excite me. My boss is the worst in town.
He mistreats me awfully. How I’d like to throttle him, the jerk!

My thinking of work is only making me angry...My daughter,
I like my daughter...of course, her five children are all brats
and ever since her no-account husband decided they oughta
borrow money from me to open a tattoo/piercing parlor...Rats!

Concentrating on him sure is not calming me any. My son,
my only boy, a fine lad...Okay, he did earn all failing grades
this year at LSU. Now he’ll be in college seven years before done.
And he moved in with that older stripper, saying he’s got it made.

Okay, my wife, my darling wife, the joy of my life. She soothes me.
We have such a good relationship...although just now I am mad
about her throwing away my very favorite shirt. How dare she?
I’d had it for years. Why do women think a few holes are so bad?”

An amateur poet, he decides to focus his mind on his poetry.
“Hmm, wouldn’t it be great to earn on Internet such acclaim
a publisher would contact me for a book...a best seller I see,
then Mel Gibson playing me in the movie...the riches, the fame...”

The nurse comes to the waiting room. “The doctor can see you now.”
“I need more time! My blood pressure is too high for testing anyhow.”

Harry Edward Gilleland      02.06.03