Jack dreaded the everything

  The frost on the window

His mothers sighs

 The empty white paint in the living room 

  The screech of the tv

The smell of garlic and pasta cooking

    The mmm gotta get it

   The fairway eyes

      A no nothing day

     He longed for a beer or some bennys

Anything to take the now fucking away

And bring the now here closer 

And loosen the lips that sink ships

The hips 

  That fly trips

Up the scrabble game nights

   In small town 

 America

Like the poet said 

   But it was not here

Not tonight

   Not Melville

Or Queequeg 

  In a half of the bed 

Before shipping out on

A Greyhound to Smallbvile, other Place

 In the back woods 

  Smelly hungry day

Eating eggs and bacon

  With a guy named Jim

(Who's paying for it)

This sucks 

Sorry