I like it done medium 

my pleasures, rare 

more than a bit of repetition 

is more than I can bear 

 

counted up to a trillion stars 

in the night sky 

I’ve tied one shoe on while

undressing you twice 

 

and it all gets tedious 

it all gets heavy 

with the taste of wine 

and the smell of yesterday 

 

it all gets tedious 

you were just saying 

that story again about 

old friends missing 

 

I take my weather wet 

my jokes dry 

I have few regrets 

about giving you the eye 

 

here we are years later 

another worn cliche 

still waking with a misplaced 

optimism up each day