He wakes up
takes a cup
of coffee
maybe
two cups
then hits
the road
for the styx.

Body bent over
from the load
he’s been carrying,
wheels rolling
taking him
to nowhere.

Stress is eating
ulcers into
the inner lining
of his stomach.

Anxiety is
a vibrating blade
that slowly takes
one chunk
at a time.

Go to work,
pay the bills,
fix dinner,
with intermittent
moment
of sleep
spaced sparsely
somewhere
in-between
nine pm
and a
very early morning.

Then on to
a long over due
death vacation.