Daydreaming and Dishes
To write a song.
I have to be famous.
But first I have to start a band.
And learn to write music.
But I don’t have friends.
I don’t have anyone.
I don’t have anyone who would want to start a band with me.
I’m listening to my favorite song right now.
Daydreaming and it’s a horrible, sad daydream.
I’m doing the dishes.
But the soap bubbles are popping.
My hands are wrinkly from water or maybe age.
The water is cold.
My thoughts are cold.
I drain the water and refill the basin.
With no music. No favorite song.
In silence,
I can get everything done.
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