My atoms are banging together like grocery carts in a big box store
and I've reached a point in my paradigm
where I'll pass up your piss and vinegar
for a good conversation and a bottle of pinot grigio
"I'm old", I say
in that "You don't know me!"
piss tank kinda way
Like magnets: same-same
we push away in this game
with a faked out pout
turn about and an
"I wanna spend my life with you!"
Rule.
"Be yourself", you said
so I've been looking in the tool shed
behind the rusted barbeque
and the lawn darts.
It's a start.
Pretty sure I'm in there, somewhere.
