alarm clock set for early morning wails and peels without fair warning rub my eyes in an effort to see surprised to wake up in the state of VT
what is this, where did it go whats a po’ boy doing far from buff’lo where be the park, the lake and da’ strip where are the people with the stiff upper lip why leave the breeze, the squalls, the kimmelweck the taverns where gran’pa drank anisette that sycamore growin’ on Franklin street the angst that consumed a community beat the grimy grey skies to summers impossibly what happened to lead me to the state of VT?
{not right to accuse others of conceit why play handball with self deceit? far better to accept the things that be and apply my emotions, stoically}
for one place is much like the other careers are for greenbacks, that’s why the bother of numbers and lawyers, of panels of priests up north, out west, down south and back east I am dissolved in a prelude that leads to eternity with so many points available, might as well be VT