Not Much Eye Contact

A 7-11 at one in the morning isn't a place
where there's much eye contact.  Someone
might open the door for you and you
Might say "thanks," but you'd rather
Not look at them.
The cashier always comes out from
The back room - from doing what
You've interrupted him from doing, so you can
Pay for your
Beer, cigarettes and ranch-flavored Doritos.
His tattoos are mean; he isn't the most pleasant, and
Neither one of you wants this to be a
Lengthy affair.  Do your business.
Get outta there.

I Have the Leisure

It's nice to have the leisure to do something you feel like doing
When you choose to do it.  No clock-watching or money-chasing.
I have the leisure to express these thoughts on a Wednesday,
     during business hours.

I've chosen to live it this way.  I have the leisure to get up slow
And savor the A.M.  Enjoy the coffee, read the news - ease
In to my freedom.  I can spend an entire morning debating on
     what to do with it.

Come mid-day, no one stops me from making a delicious turkey
Sandwich, with two slices of fresh, dark red tomato, a leaf of
Crispy romaine, bright green avocado slices and pepper jack cheese.
     I'll do it on a whim.

I even have the leisure to take a nap right now if I want.

We Got Ourselves a Writer Here

You know what?  For what it's worth, I'm going to call myself
a writer.
I know you don't care and you'd rather be reading a real one,
but at least
I can say I'm something more than a broken-down washer and
dryer 
Rusting in a weedy yard in Tuscaloosa.  I wouldn't dare assume this
title if I
Weren't showing up every day - writing something.  Something mostly
equates to shit.
But shit - albeit rancid - does make for great fertilizer.

London!

London, dearest London!
I'm finally swinging on your streets.
I've waited long for this time to arrive.
And if your rain, as it often does,
comes falling down in sheets,
I won't slow down my chummin' round
your lovely little dives.

One block, to a fine pub!
I'll sit and sip a local pour,
and watch the city folks go by and by.
And when the contents of my pint
are dranken and no more,
I'll ditch my glass by the rail of brass
and go meet your grey sky.

Big Ben, there you are now!
A gothic edifice so great.
Just how long have you been keeping time?
I wonder as I marvel you,
if time might have ill fate.
And if it does, is it because
we've squandered all our prime?

Who cares?  I know I don't!
I'm on the tube to Abbey Road
to see the place where heaven once lived here.
And I'll cross, with bare-skinned feet,
the ground where Beatles strode,
and changed the world, right as it twirled,
O London you're so dear!

Joint Custody

Regarding a Black Lab:

I miss my ex-girlfriend's dog so much.  Boo is like
A soul mate, and sometimes I get to watch her
For a month or a couple weeks.  She's allowed to

Sleep on my bed, but hesitates to jump up because
At home it's not okay.  I tell her, "Get up here!"
And she finally does (happily), and talks quite a bit.

In the mornings we walk, and she wanders off-trail
Just far enough before checking back in.
I actually appreciate just that little bit of space.

Getting Fancy

I used to wonder what was wrong with
A hooded sweatshirt and some jeans.

Or some similar combination.  Then I began
To realize that, well, it does tell some kind of
Story - the way you adorn yourself.

Are we looking like
Trouble is what we're looking for, or do
We think of ourselves as much more sophisticated?

She Dreams about that Special Day

She dreams about that special day in her life
When she stands at an altar,
Most commonly in a flowing white dress,
Holding a gaze on him.

Finally, the most anticipated, most magnificent
Day of her life!

But sometimes, after the honeymoon, the fairy
Tale takes a turn.
Sometimes some new characters get introduced,
Then an original

One disappears - throwing an undesirable
Twist into the plot.
Financial situations begin to muddy up the script.
And every day,

She dreams more and more about that special day.