Since I lost my way, I spend my days hiding
Tense behind curtains, trying to be invisible,
Working out new places to be when the postman arrives.
I wait for the wife to get home from work with the kids
And thank me savagely once again for nothing.
The kids whose joy saps the life out of me
Tie me down with their eyes, so that I must watch them
Struggle with toy alarm clocks and shriek
Whether happy or sad.
Occasionally, I hear from the kitchen "don't fall asleep.
I don't want them out in the street again. It's dark."
But I find I must spread myself out on the carpet
And rest bones too weary from way too much scotch.
I awake to an hysterical harrangue,
Three wordless mouths when my ear can't take one,
And I find I must leave, so I walk
To Marty's, but he won't let me in,
Seems his wife wants him all to herself this evening.
I'd go to the bar, but I don't feel too guileful tonight.
So I walk down the unlit streets,
Jealous of the dogs that bark at me,
Surveying my difficulties, the least of which are what I've described.
I can't get clear of my memory.
I can't dream at a baseball game like I used to.
I can't lose this sense of dread
That all that has happened will be taken away from me.
There are too many stars tonight,
So I'll go back home once I can
Figure out a way to get in
(Maybe I can sneak in when she takes out the trash).
I envy the smile on the face of the man
I saw escorted in shackles from the court to a van —
His worries were over.
