Distance is hard,
we’re both together
and alone with thoughts
about what’s over there
out in the horizon, apart
making bucks. Fun. Sucks. Nunchuks.
Bucks easily spent. Nunchuks,
and beers – it hit hard
when money was far apart,
at least I’m home: we’re together
slightly distracted, my mind over there
on a future to which I’ve given no thought
I have racing thoughts –
a clusterfuck. Nuns. Fuck. Nunchuks.
I know you’re in there,
but lately it’s been hard
knowing we’re together
seeing us apart.
Things would not be so hard together
if thoughts stopped racing here and there
and I was not apart from my honey nun chuckles nunchuks.