Some random poetry on this slow, snowy Friday night.
Going somewhere strange.
I realize I need a change.
What really is tomorrow
It never arrives.
Is there one place I'd like to stay,
or is it a state of mind?
Is it possible
that all I want
is just
a step or two away?
To my left
a fax machine wails
I must type scores
And stop writing these silly details.
(Yes, it's true, I have to get back to work!)
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