Waiting on the sour dough
To rise sufficiently
For kneading

The big grand dog
Is laying beside me on the couch
Snoring loud

The laundry
Is done
And put away

The breeze is cool
It will be a good night
For dreaming

Stocked up, locked up
In my sanctum *******.
Got *** and cigs and cheap wine;
For me that makes a quorum.
I hope no friend comes by
Acting all hale and hearty.
They're not inside a moment
Then they call up Dial A Party.

Then suddenly my place
Plays host to all the bums
Who have nothing else
But the strength to come
And just sit on my couch
And then eat up all my food
Drink all of my *****
While slurring words like “Dude!”

Now, I'm not anti-social
But I am not Donald Trump
Who has plenty of cash
To entertain these humps.
If they only brought something;
A six-pack or some ****
I'd find an excuse for them;
Some lame reason or need.

So, these days I read
And keep the stereo off.
I don't turn on the lights.
Hell, I don't even cough.
I hide out in the bedroom
Just me and Sam *****,
Seriously reconsidering
The kind of friends I've made.

I am done now, finished
all my ideas robbed
re-set in another's mind
be it grave or birthed
either way I am gone
to some other place.
A farewell is short
but fare ye well I say.
I wish you new fields
other fertile ground
where a poet sings
free songs for taking.
But this poet has flown.

I just got
A friend request
From Tom Petty
Over on facebook.

I noticed
He didn't
Have any friends
Or photos.

He's on my playlist
If not
My friend list.

It is a pity.
Music has charms

Or so I've heard