In my dreamlife I'm a waiter
I sleepwalk on my back
only barely conscious of my environs
the instance of the walls keeps me on track.
Even my rage is misty there
though it seems so real
and then the clouds part and I awake.
My life begins at 5 oclock sometimes 2am
And the phone rings and the nightmare begins
someone looking for a shift
or else its some long lost friend 
telling me a buddy's gone down in the mists
I'm too young for all this pain
Don't recall I bargained for this
Friends should come with warning signs
Say they "might not last out the decade.
# copyright Joe Johnston