In That Dirt

When I'm in that dirt,
Know that I never wanted to be there...
like the dentist office, the doctor, the DMV.
There's no time for such things.

Before I was in the dirt,
I lived afraid of death.
Living on time borrowed at an interest
rate that I could never pay back.

I'd catch myself, panicked in the car,
a cloud of smoke wreathing me
like a guardian angel.

I'd wonder if today was the day,
a semi-truck would run me over.

Is today the day my heart stops?

Is today the day a blood vessel pops in my brain,
and I fall over without the chance to say goodbye,
or to say the three words?

Before I was afraid of death,
I lived life like a king,
on a panhadler's salary,
Sinatra-style, the end unreal.

At the age of 35,
the unreal turned real,
the future morphing into the present.

Now, when I'm alone,
I want to curl into a ball
as protection from the world.

When I'm in that dirt,
Know that I want to be with you,
On the beach, in the bar, in the bed.
There is still time for such things.