Alarm clock goes off
That annoying beep beep beep
That interrupts my sleep and dreams
Of rebellions and saber-toothed cats
Running thru towering grass

I rub the sleep-crusts from my eyes
Stretch my coiled legs as far as I can
Pray to whatever God
That everyone else believes in
That I can make it thru another day
Of mind numbing-knuckle busting work
And corporate democratic hypocrisy

That stumbling feeling of standing up
After only a couple hours of restless slumber

The sun hasn’t yet woke up
Hiding behind a dark starless sky
And the blackout blinds make it impossible to see
So I feel my way out of the bedroom
Inevitably stepping on a bone
My dog left out the night before
A whispered curse
Muttered with morning breath
Escapes my desiccated lips

Flip the light switch on to the bathroom
For a few seconds I am blind
Until everything again comes into focus

The reflection in the mirror
Peers back at me like a stranger
With disheveled hair and bloodshot eyes
Cursing me for waking him up
At such an ungodly hour
I need a shave
But I fool myself into thinking
That it can wait for another day

A quick shower of nodding siestas
In water that never seems
To be the right temperature
I step out, towel off
And grumble my way down
Thirteen steps of stairs

The sliding of a patio door
To let the dog out to do her morning routine
Brings in a cool morning breeze
The freezes my still drying body

I put on my work uniform
Covered in grease stains and blood
I pull my boots on one at a time
And lace the shoelaces

Slave to the grind of daily life
And bills collecting on the countertop
Like dead leaves beneath the trees
In the backyard

Note to self: buy a rake
And clean up the yard

I answer last nights missed texts
Hoping to wake someone up
So that I don’t have to start this day alone
Never any such luck for me

A treat for the dog
Who retreats back to her cage upstairs
When she comes back inside
A light kiss
On my sleeping wife’s forehead
Followed by a quiet goodbye

Back down thirteen steps
And into the sage green kitchen
My lunch sits packed on the counter
Ramen noodles and pears
For the five hundredth day in a row

Lights out, doors locked
And I’m out starting the car
Cranking what little is left in the battery
To power a crumbling ******* machine

I ignore the radio’s useless barrage
Of Top Forty rock n roll hits
And commercials overflowing
With hype, propaganda,
And misinformation

Instead opting to listen
To the quickening deterioration
Of a CV Joint clicking and grinding
As the wheels spin down asphalt and concrete
On my way to a job that quit being a career
And could hardly be called a paycheck
In this universal recession