One week ago, I felt like this. Now, things are…different.
The streets are dead, I just need a friend.
So, I high-five the red crosswalk hand.
I sing to the sewers and howl at the moon.
I’m yesterday’s paper’s new cartoon.
The sidewalk still sleeps. I just need a map.
There’s a treasured X in each crack that I step.
A few beers for breakfast and I’m sunny-side up
Im the trite-but-true slogan on your coffee cup.
