chores,
no time,
autism spectrums,
the expense of
everything
come colliding into
my quickly beating heart
at odd intervals
in the spaced day,
i quickly retreat
to a spot in my brain
that is hidden like
bags of gold in a forest
under a stack of sticks
to visions of my loverly wife
and i blaring down some sun ruined road
in our old age behind the
over-sized wheel of a
sussed out RV
with cigars in our mouths,
singing to yo la tengo and
wondering why the years didn't
move as fast as our
parents always
predicted.
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