-piano-

my daytime clothes are laid-out

at the foot of the unmade bed.

the drapery is noteworthy.

too bad I’m not a painter.

on the wall adjacent to the doorway,

hangs a Picasso drawing.

It’s a fake, but still nice to look at.

I leave all of it for breakfast.

here, decisions are made.

where to go, what to do, should

I carry more than twenty bucks?

robbers don’t ask that sort of question.

they just bop you on the head and take

what you have.

so why fret over the amount at breakfast?

take the twenty and that’s that.

wash-up, put the clothes on. tidy-up.

remember to take the keys. 

walk outside where the world doesn't give a shit.