Feb. 15th, 2010

boutell: (Default)
These days I wear a passport on my arm.
No limits, no excuses. Sweet release
Paid for with something plentiful, like charm.
From blink to blink my roaming fees increase.

I held myself to other standards once.
I can't afford a toothbrush anyway.
Uncomprehending, hapless, mortal, stunned.
Now my map of the area is gray.

I can't afford to Google Map or tweet
Or call you up to beg, or buy a belt,
Or shave my unintended half-goatee.
So I'll remain yours, by not dressing well,

And let my sweet admirers lose their bets
On trouble I cannot afford to get.

September 2014

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