There are those days
Where I would rather be
             Anywhere else, or
                      Doing anything else, or
                                  Talking to anyone else.
I'd rather ride the
                    ancient            yellow          Schwinn  ­       in the shed
To the cemetery
Pay my respects       to Baby Lanny
And
               think.

I'd rather drive to            Chicago
Stay by the Pier for a while,
Drinking warm cocoa                 eating a hot dog.

I'd rather stay in my room,
                                     curled up under a blanket
Reading and staring out the window.

That's not how life works, unfortunately.
So I have to take my                        responsibilities
And wield them     with a
                                      heavy
                                            heart
Waiting until a time
Where I can        drive          to Chicago.