My life is full of tragedy
Hurt and pain left and right
I see things a little differently
Looking for sunshine in the night

Condemned by them
Isolation
Controlled by them
Aggravation
Freedom lost
Twice the cost

I am on probation

The milkman used to come up this way,
Bringing us his creamy milk, and stories, back in the day.
A dusty train followed him, rising up into the sky,
His buggy drove low, but his spirits sang high.
In my mind, I still see his horse-drawn car,

“Within the surface of the fleeting river the wrinkled image of the city lay.” I stopped and observed this for some time deep in thought about how much I wanted a gas-powered sweater. Sadly, being a stand up comedian, I had little or no money.