Waiting for marty

bourbon soda over ice, in the basement shade
got it made, no one here, just the beer man's dog
howling at the moon heat gnawing on a bone
waiting for marty to get home.

marty's in the bath house yanking out the gray
getting older ain't a party it's a good damn play
no wonder dogs howl. they can see the rider coming
waiting for marty to get home.

used to be a girl then a woman then nothing
the quilt is in the corner by the oak console
the phone rings once a day just like a daughter
waiting for marty to get home.

blend in with the city and the watering hole
doesn't talk he wants to think but he can't anymore
the basement game is over. there's food left in the fridge
waiting for marty to get home.

the milk man doesn't stop here and the bone is chewed to bits
stack of mail and old newspapers in the overgown yard
the light bulb on the back porch takes it's last breath
waiting for marty to get home.