Ninety Days

I wish I were Matt Damon 

wish I was Good Will Hunting 

but misfortune is my lot 

ninety days out

time to shoot my shot

but I got zero targets

and my sensual dreams at night keep me awake

call from a friend in in the morning, "how are things with your girl?" and I could feel him smiling and optimistic on the other end and I had to drag the waters and explain,  goddamnit it's been ninety days, but dreams and friends bring you back to my head, "why did you hurt me, [insert her precious name here]?" I keep saying, "One tear, one fucking tear when my first wife said she didn't love me anymore, took the dogs, the car and split, no tears for my second wife, and no tears for the mother of my child, but sixty four days straight of rollers for you and 44 years of life, never had that, and I don't know what that number adds up to but fuck you.  I'm still from the streets and I still know how to move...  I remember feeling you in my guts on week two.  

it's been ninety days and I haven't been baptized yet 

I haven't been cleaned 

and I'm not so sure I want to be