not going to work today, and i never will.
I'll spend it in the garden—won't pay that bill.
sleep amongst the swiss chard, dirt under my head.
when i'm with you, i've never been misled.
there's nothing else i'd rather do—social life swept under the rug.
there's another bed to be dug.
fuck the club, the local hub—i'll stay outside—in the raspberries I'll confide.