No Orange

I am at twin peaks off of Stassney,

Wondering if I should get another one,

Making it four or five or six for the day,

Wondering if I am losing all that was so hard-fought won.

Then in my mind in my queso there's a gnat

But the girls here are barely seventeen and they are barely dressed

And Addy has her backside to my face

And I'm on the backside of forty.

The queso is gelling

And Addy puts down on the table in front of me another short dirty blonde--

No orange--

And my eyes range the rest of her bodice.

—Dennis Quaid does a good Reagan.

Then I contemplate fifty

And my next drive and

The queso is kind of spicy.

Addy darling you let my mug run dry.

I, I, I, I'm still alive. I'll have one last one.

As I contemplate sixty on the drive home,

I wish my wife was a sure thing.

There is tons I know and other things I am so unsure.

As I pull off of Stassney

And kill the engine in my driveway,

I still don't know who the fuck to vote for.