Beautiful Day, My Ass

“It’s a beautiful day,” the house-painter said each morning as I went out, and it always seemed such garbage to me. I’m sure that sunny days must be of worth To those who work outdoors, But I don’t work and I’ve been sick so long, It doesn’t mean a rat’s-ass thing to me. rcs. Current draft: 5/4/2010 Created on 5/4/2010 1:36 PM