I need a haircut.
And a new job.
I’ve taken to skipping breakfast, too.
Coffee fills me up.
On the way to work
I see kids huddle together at the bus stop.
I feel sorry for them.
They want to grow up.
I so want to roll down my window and yell,
“Just ride your bikes, play in cricks
And run home to warm dinners,
Quick, while there’s still time!”
We used to jump the crick a la Evel Knievel,
Plastic football helmets on our heads,
Spangled streamers trailing from handlebars.
Come to think of it, we skipped breakfast then, too.