Makes me want to cry, all the cowboys with guitars
strumming in accompaniment to a world
whizzing through a universe it can barely comprehend.
The world is a wall that is crumbling, crumbling,
and no amount of musical mortar can keep up with it.
Lyrics on the radio swirl into a quagmire
of words to be written,
lists of what to do.
A new riff floats my mind away:
her backdoor screen is closed.
turn around my darling
or the world is lost.
Everything so crazy
it makes him want to cry
Drowning my sorrows in his,
the task of this poem remains unaccomplished.
The small dog cries over an untossed ball.
Yolanda with her mop, dispenses advice and laughs at my jokes.
That melody fading into silence,
I wait for a new one to begin.