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Jan 2010
Early morning
before the sun,
I lay my head
no longer young.

Pushing for sleep,
but it is lost.
Cold *** weather
cookies been tossed.

Water glass
next to my head.
Yawning slowly,
the living dead

Sleep is distant
can barely see,
thinking of you
here next to me

Scratchy sheets
and lumpy bed.
Springs are poky
clothes been shed.

Take a pill,
take two more.
Go out to town
find a *****.

On the corner,
there she stands.
On broken glass,
and dented cans.

**** her once,
and then again.
Lay back down,
find sleep my friend...
Written by
Andrew E. Baker
931
     JM, D Conors, mark pederson, C and Sarah Wilson
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