In my car, not twenty feet
From the drive-thru teller's window,
Waiting to bleed my crippled account
For the last time,
I see a patch of barren earth
Next to the drive, a dried puddle perhaps,
Or just a bit of soil the weeds have overlooked
But to me, it is Paradise
And to lie in that place,
To feel the sand warmed by the sun,
And never need to leave
Would be worth my soul.

Aaron Baird