LAMBORGHINI SYNDROME

After the beach
gimme a good western
like Tombstone
to fall asleep to.

Something with
bad men,
clean motives,
and a gun
that always works.

I dream of making
stuffed bell peppers
in a naturally well-lit kitchen.

Not a penthouse.

Just counter space,
a sharp knife,
and enough energy
to stand until dinner.

I have nothing to offer
right now
except pain.

It isn't noble.

It doesn't make me
interesting.

It just hurts.

I went to get gas
and had to come home
and rest for two hours.

There was a time
I would've called that
a waste of a day.

Now I call it
the day.

I used to hate naps.

Now I take them
with a heating pad
pressed against my back,

like some washed-up outlaw
who finally figured out

the hardest part
of being a bad guy

is getting old enough
to need a classic ugly recliner.