Life has been up and down over the last couple of years -- an unexpected divorce and consequent business restructuring (my wife had been a business as well as life partner), along with the expected grieving after the profound loss, plus some health issues. But 2025 has, thus far anyway, been an overall upswing, as I regain my landlegs and settle into a new normal.
One concrete change has been increasing my number of patient hours per week. There have been several reasons for this, all of them good and not unwelcome, but it is a bit of an experiment, as I am now operating at a higher mean emotional output than I have, at least purposely, for some time. As a result, I often find myself at the end of the week more depleted than I expected and sometimes that means not just physically and emotionally, but, cognitively.
Yesterday was one of those days. With nothing to hold the reins on my ADHD, now that it was no longer structured by my practice schedule, I ricocheted about my house, unsure how to spend my time, bouncing off creative ideas like a pinball surrounded by bumpers. I worked in the shop for a bit, decided to go pick up some beer, changed my mind, watched YouTube, started laundry, went for groceries, which I did while listening to The White Stripes, and, when I had my foodstuffs stashed, I noticed a phrase bouncing around in my head. For better or worse, the below is the result of that brain barrage:
I Ate the Pope
You know I ate the pope?
Well, act’ly* more than one.
I just woke up one morning;
and thought it would be fun.
Too many claimed their Innocence,
but I just hollered “Nope!”
No credence for Bonificance
I got to chompin’ pope.
A platter full of Sixtuses –
why isn’t there a sixth? –
and smorgasbords of Sergios
went down my gullet quick.
So many Pauls and Leos,
a Marinus or two,
and even Anastasius!
Was there a Lando, too?
I ate an Agapetus –
You know there’s more than one?
And Gregories and Victors
I chewed ‘fore I was done.
No papal bull could hinder
my gustatory charge.
Nor Clementi nor Hadrians
E’er stopped my living large.
Calixtuses and Nicholi
became my ev’ning meat.
I had to floss an Analect
who caught between my teeth.
At last my gut could take no more
of Pius’ piety.
Gelasius and Urban had
become too much for me.
I bid adieu to Celestines
and Johns and Benedicts.
Let who survived be kept here for
the next starved heretic.