yeah ... wutever
Up before the sun.
I can see it yonder,
on the horizon,
rolling the blankets back
and shaking off the night,
its eyes as full of sleep as my own.
I sit down to to my desk.
I check my email
I’m one hundred thousand million miles away
from the ranch I grew up on.
hate mail
fan mail
spam
I miss the dirt underneath my fingernails
I turn the ‘puter off
and I walk out of the hotel
to take the bus to work.
