It’s a wobbly porch
And I have to stand beneath it
With four-by-four posts
That move constantly
To get it supported again
I need a jack
I need two men
I need lumber
I live in poverty and this is all impossible
So I stand beneath
My wobbly porch
And pray to the god of construction and balance
Not to cave in my cheap head
The joists come off
Without a hammer
Just a pull with a strong arm
And I realize
When I worked on my roof
I stood on this
For support
With a few hundred pounds
At my feet
Perhaps because of this
I overkill with strapping
And put in too many screws
And now the posts have
No play at all
But this is one of the many times
I could have died
And if I don’t start writing
And quit constructing
One of these times
The construction god will be pissed at me
For cutting a hair too thin
On too many boards
And smite me as He did once
With a paddle bit
And when that happens
You will be reading this
But until then
Want to come have some BBQ
On my new deck?