When the same standard-issue days roll
I am tied, gagged, still on the deck
Of the other night’s sinking dreamboat.
It’s when the city lights become lackluster
And the cool but well-meaning rain
Is not the same one I used to dance under.
I take it I wasted too much time well-spent
On thundering brainstorms and lousy paperwork
For a thing we call a living
that was really weren’t.
(c) 2014 Vivien Marie Lopez
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