The car is spotted up with tree-droppings,
    no one to impress anyway.
This morning I drank a warmed-over brew,
    I’ll make a fresh pot tomorrow.

I love each day, my work— even women,
    despite the frustration.
The only things in life that give me pain
    are ads for pain relievers.

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© 2006 Warren Farr, revised 3/18
Reprinted from Poems by an Artist.