THAT'S WHY I AM HERE
When the roads get shiny, I admire
the shine. When the sky stays dark,
I say 'How nice.' Not much to
complain about here. I have this
skin that I live in, and it's OK;
No big deal and I certainly can't
brag. Old home week in the
doggy-pound. More like that.
There's a guy painting box cars:
He's got a huge paint sprayer,
throwing black on two big
cars - on the rails they sit.
The paint compressor hums.
I can tell it means business.
'That's why I am here,' I
can hear it say.
Spray away I say.