The window fan keeps telling me
Though I don’t listen
The back porch tries to teach me lessons
Something about shifting
10537 bugs
Are having a party under my door light
How can they make so many bad decisions
Sooner or later, they’ll stay out to late
Get too cold
Drop like crows
Can’t stop thinking about it
Never really knew why
Thought it was buckeyes
Not that I’m uppity
I think its wrong
Ohio has no dirt roads
What kind of story are you supposed to write
Without gravel, gravel and despair
Though I do like the clean crisp air
Now where was I I get lost in my thoughts
Oh yah, bugs and fans
Block parties and a midnight hum
We’re all full of shit
Well…. I am.










