i rode thirty miles
on an old silver schwinn
that i bought for ten bucks
at a yard sale.
if i told you
what for
you might fire me
right then
in the end
it was all
for a cigarette.
rest assured
it was worth it
even with the slow leak
and that hand-pump
from hell
amid three-digit weather
just to wither away
one more desiccant day
in the dolor
of flailing depression.
Max, or Not 
I love this!
But not the depression!
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Sometimes, there’s, just that desperate need, to get away, from where we are, to take that needed three-minute “vacation”, so we can recharge ourselves, and get back to work again…
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