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Waking Up in Washington, D.C.

(More readable version)

it is 9 o'clock in th' mornin'

an' me brain is full o' tongues

i woke
t' a president's plan
fer an ailin' economy
pressed through
a recalcitrant congress
ground finer still
by th' peckin' fingers o' reporters
stuffed into th' airwaves
like a sausage.

me dreams were cobweb
clingin' in me mouth

I prayed
in th' light
as I waited fer th' snooze
me dream persisted
like hope but soured

a sharp toothbrush punctures
me reverie
not unpleasant

i elect Ira Glass
soft kin' o' me ear
fer breakfast
a small truth
etched deep
into five acts

thar is coffee
movin' quickly
an' I go
before th' dawnin' fluorescence
i were bein' predestined t' arrive
a little late

i know how t' empty meself
but where does it go?

time swept me
like th' metro
from dream t' dream
I can hear th' chatter o' water
above th' beatin' o' me heart

fer th' love o' god!

I can do.

later even
than I were bein' before
but with more o' me.

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