If I were to try
To wriggle my way out
Of a stupendously sticky situation
I know that they all
Would call me back home
To the utmost of familiar locations
But my bed makes me ache
And my house makes me shiver
And this town makes me quake to the bone
I'll spend the remainder
Of my life dreaming
Of a life on the road and a vision so clear
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
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