my mourning walk alone

when the boys go to sleep
and so does the tv
i'm still up
and now the sun is
too.

its weird
when you're 21
sneaking out of your friend's house
at six in the morning
and all his doors
won't close
and every floor board
creaks.

i always try to keep on a path
with no turns
because i am bad with direction
and to be direct
i don't want to loose my way.

the road is short though
before it breaks off
into a left or a right
in which i go
the road that takes me
to a town
that i vaguely know.

i made it to the park
we spent a day once
and stole that lady's purse
in the parking lot
not to far from here.

i sat on the swings
and took bumps
from your stash
while i smoked a blunt
and watched a man
mow the grass.

but somehow i ended up in a corn field
probably around nine
on a large rock
in the weeds
where low and behold
i smoked another blunt
and listened to the early birds
talk
talk
talking
then the farmer on a tractor came
so i put it out and i went
walk
walk
running
all the way back
down the street.

its even weirder
when your 21
sneaking back into your friend's house
at ten in the morning
luckily everyone was up late
and no one was up now
because if by some
not so slim chance
his family had been at their kitchen table
having breakfast
they might not have remembered me
and would have been totally freaked
if a stranger that looked like i do
just walked in
...

thank heavens that wasn't the case
and i went straight up the stairs
to where the boys we're still sleeping
and would of never known
where i had been
if not for my pants being wet
at the ends
by morning dew
on baby corn stalks
and my boots
covered in mud.