Tax time: A poem.

April is coming, that’s tax time.
So I recently sat down to finish mine.

Sure, I’ll give “the man” what’s due.
We all should, including you.

My computer fired up, my spirits spiraled down.
“I owe how much?” I asked with a frown!

Sad trombone is what I think I heard.
Why do they want so much of what I earned?

To fix the roads. To fix healthcare.
OK, OK, you got me there.

I filled out the lines, line after line,
Then I felt a tickle, and not the good kind.

I began to sweat and feel hot.
I knew right away what it was and was not.

It wasn’t nerves, nor temperature or gas.
Ol’ man winter was here to kick my …butt.

I haven’t had a cold in many moons
But now I guess my time was due.

Day one seemed to last forever
with a throat like new sandpaper.

Day two was a lot like day one
but add in a fever, lots of fun!

Today is day three, a cough and some sniffles.
That tickle never lead to any giggles.

Yet it’s funny that taxes made me sick.
“Wait,” you say, “not so quick!”

I know, I know, I probably shouldn’t blame taxes
But that’s the story I’ll be telling to the masses.

-Out of the Wilderness

PS. I actually do have some gas.

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Late Night Cable (Goodbye)

He said goodbye without saying it exactly.
But that’s definitely what she heard.
It was all in the way he acted.
Blaming as if the fault was hers.

Having control must be such a high.
That’s all she can figure.
So instead of trying last night
she wrote on one of her favorite pictures.

She bought some time on late night cable
And for thirty minutes straight
Was the picture of him sitting at a table
With the words “Goodbye cheater! Good luck getting a date.”

She said goodbye, she said it exactly.
And that’s definitely what he heard.
It’s all in the way she acted.
Laughing as if the fault was hers.

How ‘Bout Now

I want to ride down the highway
barely aware of what’s around us.
So caught up in each other
we may run out of gas,
but isn’t it a blast
to hold hands because we trust
that what we have will last?

I want to wake up in the morning
still smiling from the night before.
When we were shopping at Old Navy.
An unexpected twist,
thank God we didn’t miss
the Thursday in that store.

Tell me have you gave up drinkin’?
because I’ve stopped overthinkin’.
We can work it out.
What’s between the dream and reality
is a ‘yes’.
Well, baby, how ’bout now?

I want to wake up in the morning,
barely aware of what’s around us.
Well, baby, how ’bout now?