Divorce
My Muse left me for a Hobo on State Street and I am sitting on a cardboard box full of unfinished books Can't blame her, really when nothing I do can shake this gray And after a quarter of a century my compass has yet to be tattooed where I can see it The Hobo is homeward bound- my Muse left me for direction I can't give her Now I know what it's like to be left behind In the divorce, I get the cardboard box and she takes her ideas