by Light Writer

And every morning she made him a sandwich.
But she wasn’t there to clean up the mess so somebody else did.
And they had two sandy tanned girls
With hair the color of ocean foam that nobody likes.
And sometimes they would go on vacation
And at the rest stops the girls would fight over corn nuts
And he would be tired because work hardly gave him breaks
So he would walk over to the park benches
And roll a cigarette
And she would sit in the passenger seat
And watch the condensation roll down the inside of the car window
And cry for a white picket fence.