EARLY FRIDAY NIGHT REFLECTIONS

EARLY FRIDAY NIGHT REFLECTIONS

Don’t know what’s gotten into me

It looks like another strike

And half of me is on the picket line

We’re pulling down and building up

But it seems to all the passers-by

That what we do, it just don’t help

Hurts like sand in a boot makes toes cry

Then it occurred to me in the heat of an iron

Hold on close to your dreams whatever they seem

Just keep trucking along like everyone else

Fall into the scheme of times screwed up

Counter-clockwise on Friday night.

-- Copyright © 2010 by Anthony Buccino, all rights reserved.
Adapted from long-lost FROM A WAREHOUSE chapbook.
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