identity theft

along the southern coast of france is a man wearing your pants wearing your shirt wearing your shoes wearing everything that you would choose. he is wearing your woman on his arm and wearing your dreams. along the southern coast of france is a man who took a chance to take a risk to make a leap to take the plunge into the deep deep dark unknown and that's why he has flown to a europe you will never see. he slides into your bakery drinks your coffee and brings your woman a morning snack where she is resting on the shore alone. not thinking of you. thinking of the sea. mystery. you sit and peer out your window at the lake. what did you forsake. what did you forsake.

down by the lake you're jogging in new jogging clothes you bought at Macy's because they were on sale after christmas and you needed some jogging clothes because you're out of shape old man and you're getting fat old friend because all you do all day is sit at a computer and it's february 13 and this is the first time you've exercised since before thanksgiving because sometimes life's too busy. your jogging clothes don't keep the cold out. your jogging clothes don't hide the rolls on your stomach or ease your breathing and you stop to let your bleeding lungs hack themselves open so they can gasp some air down and your lightheadedness makes you momentarily delusional and you find peace in the fact that you are about die. because it would be easier than jogging back home and making dinner and washing the dishes and watching history's mysteries before going to bed at 11 remembering how little you accomplished that day or that weekend or that year. i'm 39 years old, you'll think, and tomorrow i will be older.