Paradox

I drink whisky neat on the rocks,
walk barefoot in my socks,
and enjoy quiet moments on the soapbox.
I eat chocolate bars to detox,
cherish the spa-like calm of aftershocks,
and admire the urbanism of boondocks.
I’m surefooted like a blind cox,
play John Cage’s 4′33″ on the jukebox,
and feel healthy like a kid with smallpox.
They call me a paradox
but I’m just a little unorthodox.

^{Part of #escapril2021. Photo by Jakob Søby.}