This is my attempt at a stream-of-conscious verse. Maybe one day I'll be confident enough to not put a disclaimer at the head of each verse. :)
Its two-pairs-of-gloves cold. The kind of conditions that makes me wish I had a girlfriend or at least an Ex that still talked to me. White knuckles clutch my counter-productive cocktail and I sit on my porch, drinking every time I see a car pass. White truck, drink. Black van, drink. Green Yaris, drink twice. I’m not going to bore you with the details, but I will say that loving her is like chasing a train going in the wrong direction. Alas, the wheels go round, the trouble with that is you can’t see the mechanism while you’re riding. She told me once,”The absence of evidence is not the evidence of absence” as it relegates to WMD’S and my begrudged affection. Watch me as I pull Significance out of this black top-hat and holding it by its ears I'll show the starved audience.