The Condition I’m In

Tonight the sofa starts to scream and shout.

What little beer is gone, he rolls out into the garage.

Dredged on an endless chain of nothing new

pulls the cover from a bright orange car.

The seat worked in like a catcher’s mitt,

can you really think life gets any better than this?

Pulls into a parking lot, the Playboy Zanzibar.

On stage the sun left her alone and blue. She's

in love with the act before the act, flashes

of everything he believes is true, sharing

stares head to toe tattoo’s—long legged

red wine and real overdue, crestfallen

worked in like a catcher’s mitt, a pole to grip

wearing nothing but red shoes and prosperity.