Early morning sometime

Only one glass left
in the bottle.
Early morning sometime.
Cold lonely couch
in a distant different city.

Escaped from somethings
From three day
Amphetamine hazes.
No bedside table line
for breakfast
or morning beer glass hugs.

Hunter S. or Hemingway,
Kerouac or Selby.
You help me out today.
Like last year
and the year before.

Maybe not a solemn Mexican
Road today.
But a mayhem of Cantonese.
You'd understand.
Cheap karaoke bars,
Whiskey and green tea.

Treating hearts like
paper airplanes.
Feeling like a piece of shit.
Where is my tambourine man,
jingling ever on the horizon.
Tapping out another path.

Modern nomad blues
Ever another path.
Wondering where and when
The sun will set
In the same place again.