Hi Listfriends,
During my visit to Holland I visited a restaurant while I was
"hyper". A lot of people were watching me while I swung my
right arm around, hardly capable to eat my dutch pastry named
"moorkop". I joked my company by telling them that I was a
celebrity. Back in the hotel room I wrote the following poem.
Celebrity
That man is staring at me,
What do I say to him?,
What must I do?, Who must I be?
Can I be too slim?
Oh my, now that woman is staring too,
Am I as famous as Muhammad Ali?,
How do I behave, what do I do?
Do I look like Michael J. Fox, is that me?
I enjoyed it very much
it makes me feel very good
to be the center of the world,
I think it fits me like a suit.
I sway my arms wild around,
stick my legs out wide,
my arm just misses my daughter
When I say to my neighbour “hi !”
Do I wear the same clothes?
Have I done something special?
I smile back at them both,
That seems to be crucial.
They move their eyes from me,
I know what causes that motion,
I am not a celebrity......,
I have Parkinsons.
