Sometimes you just feel
Like spinning your wheels
Breathing in the fumes as the tires peel

Learning to shun
The rain and the sun
As you're building up an immunity to fun

Appointments postponed
Reading at home
A little P.G. Wodehouse and Jerome K. Jerome

Curtains undrawn
You catch up on
What's been happening with your suburban lawn

Weekend stubble grown out over several weeks
Makes up for the lack of color in your cheeks
And your sense of humor is now so refined
Suberbly timed
Line after line
That you don't mind
How there's no one
There to laugh

From knuckly trees
The last of the leaves
Are stripped and taken by the autumn breeze

While from your room
This afternoon
You looked out on the chrysanthemums in bloom

And is it true
There've been a few
Times during which you actually had things to do?

Out on your bike
The streets sound just like
All those words you've never heard pronounced in real life

You lie in the center of your bed
With the sheets pulled up to just below your head
So keenly aware of each one of your toes
Your lips and nose
You start to doze
Perfect repose
Rolling over you
In a silent wave