Thursday, August 9, 2007

when the weight of bills,

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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