They watched me limping
Ahead steadily pretending
I don't exist.
I ought to be remote
From whatever they
Whisper to and fro,
And an hour or two
Punching the heavy bag,
Running the treadmill
Should make it so.
Stars later twinkle through
My window and catch my
Eye. I pause, take
A twisted towel and
Mop my brow.
These junctures
Are thirsty work.
Hoisting a beer I look
About at all I've destroyed,
Ready now for the next
That comes my way.
