Average

the alarm clocks bleeds no emotion as it announces another icicle morning skewering the loveless dawn time for zombie coffee routine lunches pants, underwear, shirts, socks, and shoes hope the car starts and head to work but not the work we want the work we must the ingrates and cretinous the ordinary life in a generic nation not the world of love and music and prose punch the clock we must though and think of things beyond comprehension to make it home and away from the revolver