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Jon
Pizza boxes stack high like a leaning tower Beer bottles empty into a slowly bruising gut Coors cans lay crumpled, contorted and crushed up Red cup upon cup Incense burns low all ashy and stale Ants march frenzied in broken rows Linoleum floor warped and sticky with scum Dusty crumb upon crumb Video games dangle in tangled up wire TV blares bright, loud and dire Controller locked in a fist losing power Dark hour upon hour Sweet good for nothing couch potato of mine You're a heel and a loser and nothing short of a bum But it's me who is still here, so then who is the dope Hopeless hope upon hope |
Summer
The tchic, tchic, tchic... pup-pup-pup-pup-pup of a free-standing sprinkler The hummm of jets in the near distant sky and the gurgling rumble of little prop planes The Zzzzz of a weedwhacker and monotonous drone of a lawn mower The erratic roar of a leaf blower |