April Poem 2

what if tomorrow
is like today
with its lukewarm shower
its bad coffee
its uncomfortable office chair
the way the computer screen burns
into my bloodshot eyes?

what if tomorrows are stuck
like a scratched cd
repeating only enough
to catch the same dull notes
but never a melody?

sometimes i want to drive
somewhere off the map
where there's no signal
and there's no one who knows
i spent 8 out of 12-hour days
doing things i'd never have done
if it weren't for what they paid.