New Yorkers are always pissed off he said
Embedded in the culture and unlikely
To be dislodged but down here even more so
Because we ate ramen noodles for a year
To make our down payment
A little demon a really bad baby
I pulverized and put in the can for good
Or so I thought but the washing machine
Had boxy white ideas of its own
To summon a thread of fragments
Dust and broken bone across the kitchen
Into the lint trap to revivify
Our sleeping bags under the stars we awoke
Surrounded by small children on a field trip
She said my packing was too precious
That really burnt my butt
She couldn’t find her collapsible cup
Among her tons and tons of stuff
Who needs a tricycle autographed
By Mickey Mantle
The rules weren’t made with such a system in mind
That’s when you have to call an audible
