Fossil

My days are filled with not too much
And I wonder how I ever held a job,
When now I ‘m incapable of linking
Two synapses of thought

My husband works at trading horses
So we can eat and keep electricity
The roof over our head is mortgaged
The rates we pay show no pity

My mind wanders on various planes
Conjuring ideas of how to secure
A stipend to afford my style
And my style becoming more obscure

My wardrobe is worn and old
Why I still hold on to some of it
Would a mystery be , to anyone
Who stumbled upon it

In a closet full of thrift shop would- be’s
Not too many job- seeking could- be’s
But off I’ll go with a little hustle
To see if anyone will hire this fossil