Or Is It the Tulips

` Driving by, lost on a side street directly in the middle of where I never wanted to be Clamoring at the expectations strewn along the curb between the broken dishwasher and empty beer cans Where neighborhood gnomes painted gaily colors wave as if they know me, but I ignore them - sort of There is one though with a hollow bookish smile that seems familiar or is it the tulips Your porch used to look like that but this door is standing open behind a welcome mat with a clover, wish I hadn’t lost that rabbit’s foot Maybe I am lucky after all, just found a spot with ten minutes remaining on the meter, forget it, it took me fifteen minutes to park The empty passenger seat still holds your form, at least I can see it - Corinthian leather never forgets A speed bump at 40 mph rattles me back behind the wheel when I see the bank clock flashes 5:00 pm, still offering a free toaster And that’s it, another Sunday afternoon wasted as much as I am, spinning my wheels with just enough gas to get back home, alone