Sitting on my ass, and the Farewell Party
My wife and I are leaving for Detroit Michigan, in August,
and around the same time,
our best friends are moving to Florida.
Consequently, it'll make moving from this desolate
corner in northern New York so much easier.
They had a farewell party, which I can barely recall,
due to a lack of soberness;
thought it could hardly be called a party, since the participants
did what they usually did at any other time.
Those times, and the people associated, will be missed.
I've wasted most of my waking hours today, writing,
and drinking stale coffee in a well-ventilated coffee shop.
The wooden chair hurts my ass, and the Sunshine beckons me
away from this place.
Will the contributions I make in life, matter?
I sit on my aching ass, wondering this,
as the world goes on without me.