Poem: The Outlet

The water gathers in a lake
Without flowing out, but always

Finds an outlet when the lake is full,
And so it with us.

We're just like the water
And when we've had it up to here,

We shoot up our former workplace
Or do a slow burn with pills and bottles,

And some of us just resign--
Not ending it,

But re-arranging it
And starting over.
---o0o---

One Month To Summer

We have one month to go to the official start of summer. Soon we will be able to see the conga line at Golden Gardens just down the hill from my house, shorts will be the norm, and most concerts will be outdoors. . .
---o0o---