You dream your life in another state
and awake to clean off a new slate.
You always love to clean your plate
and everyone is consistently late.

You fiddle with your ill gained vagabond skills
and can’t do the math and count all the kills.
You can amass all the facts and the lost pills.
You can remember back to youth and it's lost thrills.

You dream of a life and can only grasp at paper
and dealing with the late paycheck caper.
Hearing the sound of that ice scraper
across the mental picture that can't escape her.

07/11/1999

Posted on 10/05/2003
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