blues in the grass

a match

a glass

green

the taste of sulfur

a late night

what might as well be

speed

in a can

tomorrow's a big day

decides a lot of things

and I can't sleep

can't sleep at all

nobody to call

the sound of the rain

the rising waters

parked a block away

got wet

then played

two blues

too punk

pie place closed

so I came home

and here I am

busting open roaches

lighting matches

and wishing I could sleep