I lock the door on my way out
The house stands empty
Just as I found it this morning,
I leave it.
I make my way down the sidewalk,
hoping I don't miss a bus.
It pulls up and I board
I turn on my music.
When I get home,
dirty dishes await me.
I ignore them for a minute while I
make dinner and catch up with my roommate.
We don't get the Bulls game on our TV,
so I watch it via Twitter while I
hammer out more poems and ice a sore shoulder.
As it gets later
the words slow down
I decide to call it a night
and end this poem right here.