Monday, February 20, 2006

Back Door

It’s bar time, time to get out
I feel fine, I feel great.
Uneasily I stand and make for the door
Slowly, one foot, then the other
In the distance my car looms
Speaking to me, telling me,
“Don’t drive home, stay the night”
Heading the warning I approach.
The back roads are safe
A roar and a howl took me along
Racing for home like a kid after curfew
Trying to sneak in the back door
With a flick of a switch lights flashed on
Victoria was waiting, on the couch, by the door…

1 comment:

  1. Hey!!
    Plato needs to lighten up on his blog and stop bein obsessed with the news. Will ya help me get him to lighten up a little??

    ReplyDelete