Feeling Good

Pubic tuesday is dead and gone
it's nearly thursday
with no word
The phone rings
all have drank
themselves to sleep
in the mild
January heat.
Not me I drink alone
just getting started
from our bed she says
"that's nice"
it's the way I farted.
Oh who will give
a rats ass to hear of this
it's not about my wife
it's the poetry I miss.
She likes it
says its good
man it's all about feeling good