Tryin’ to get some slack,
Free my brain,
Make livin’ jus’
A little less rough:
No easy task, trus’ me now,
On labour’s Boredom Road.
On my way home from
The needle factory;
Prospects gone like
Mice in a cat’s home.
Eased back, took a drag.
Watched the clouds doin’
Their eternal calc’lation dances:
Mapping the atmosphere, assessing
The differences, shiftin’ shapes,
Tradin’ energies, motherin’
The winds, sketchin’ the seasons,
Stretchin’ time.