Boys & Toys

3AM Subway Stop

Teetering on a trail
Tottering with a toy
Spellbound by superstition
Jones-ing for some joy

He shuffles over shopworn shag
Every vortex does he view
In search of some vile green juice
So that slumber might ensue

Upstairs there is the newsprint
To give silvered glass a shine
The unguents and the potions
To cure what we cannot find


Calamine and a curling iron
Suggest shaped image and a mask
The rubber duck now out of luck
Descends undaunted in his task

The cupboard by the ice maker
Seems to starkly suggest a clue
Herbal teas and pink plastic straws
What a little Drain-O can do!

In olden days, some purple haze
Would bring sleep swift and true
Though he longs for Gaughan’s sarongs
He knows precisely what they do

No band-Aid or Voltaryn
No crutch to hobble through
He sees the smile unconfined
By trial
And knows just what to do

Horizontal on the beige
Sateen sheets the glow descends
No more time for nursery rhymes
Let the snores begin!



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