Insidious, that sinking sense
A wound below the waterline
Concrete caged around my gut
Descent, fading fast.

That old friend lonesome,
Come to rest upon the stoop
To wait and wave through windows;

Don’t you want the company?

Things not to do in the bathroom,
look in the mirror with the light on,
get into the shower with your pants on,
feed the ducks.

God didn't put a spell on me
I didn't go to hell and he
must be on holiday.

Sunday
the living room
has no room
and neither
has the inn,

I'm dying to put my feet up
and living for the moment I do

there's nothing like a Sunday
except for Sunday when it's
Monday and you're
looking through the rearview,

wondering
what
comes next.