If freckles were lovely, and day was night,
And measles were nice and a lie warn’t a lie,
Life would be delight,—
But things couldn’t go right
For in such a sad plight
I wouldn’t be I.

If earth was heaven and now was hence,
And past was present, and false was true,
There might be some sense
But I’d be in suspense
For on such a pretense
You wouldn’t be you.

If fear was plucky, and globes were square,
And dirt was cleanly and tears were glee
Things would seem fair,—
Yet they’d all despair,
For if here was there
We wouldn’t be we.

I've lost far too much to care
From afar, you touch the tear
Feelings marred, I clutch your stare
I've lost far too much to bear

Cigarettes begin my day
Better yet, they singe me grey
I could bet on what you'd say
Please just make it go away

Can't you see that I'm in pain?
Don't you hear me call your name?
You've just got to stake your claim
On the boy that never came

When the sun returns, my dear
Don't question what I'm doing here
You knew that I would one day steer
My way back to your jagged spear

So on the day that neither know
Be sunny, grey or white with snow
I'll deal out the fatal blow
And on our separate paths we go

Stalled in afternoon traffic
by the crack of a jackhammer
and the smell of hot asphalt,
what else is there to do but wait
for the sun-kissed woman
in muddy work boots and
orange vest to acknowledge me.

She has a tattoo of an AR-15
on her left forearm and more
ink (an octopus?) under her eye.

She is in total control.

Her unclasped safety
vest ***** in the wind.
The smoke from her
Marlboro Red snakes
down the line of cars
and wafts into my open
window with a smell
so strong she should
be riding shotgun.

She alone will deliver me.

As the jackhammer
fires on full auto,
I wait like a child
for my turn to go.

Her eyes squint and the octopus
squirms and my afternoon restarts
with another twist of her gloved hand,
the sign revolving from Stop to Slow.