Somedays you’re
the windshield
somedays you’re
the bug

Me? I’m the guy
with the red rag
hanging from gray
overall pocket who
cleans up the mess


Night comes, day goes –
or vice versa. Who knows?

Nocturnal vices of peers-
beer, dancing, sex, beer
in no particular order

My vices of the night –
words, paper, words

am I more profound, or
more boring – or vice versa?

Who knows? Day comes,
night goes