I’m sitting here, Lying at my feet, Billy,
Sitting on the couch Alan,
Lying in their play and packs, Jack and Fiona,
Hum, the fridge, the fan, the house creaks, the doors, the vibration of the cars on the freeway,
The kitchen is clean,
The babies are sleeping,
Outdoors is toxic today, the weed pollen “very high” have to stay in,
Feel like painting, being creative, feel like I’m not free to,
Why?
Instead I write, it’s easy to sneak and write,
It’s much more difficult to sneak to the studio, and if I don’t sneak and say this is what I want to do right now at this moment on a quiet Sunday afternoon,
I Feel Guilty,
When the babies are sleeping, I’m PMS’ing, and it’s the perfect thing to do,
WHY?
