i sit here so relaxed- a miller light & a heart full of dynamite
i drink until the sun paces its flowered face over all of our nighttime shys
afternoon and the cold of the creased spaced window- they wake me to remind me im alive
'is it 2 o'clock- is it am or pm?
i wonder how many people think im a homeless junkie walking down the side of the highway
headed towards the exxon to get my NY post
thats all im doing but i know what they think
a widowed WOMAN with nothing but her time to give