To Saint Joaquin

Two alarms invade our sleep,
wake our minds from colored spells so deep

We roll out of the sea of dreams like porpoises
On a shore between wakefulness and sleep

Light goes on as do clothes
Toilet stops and breakfast bowls

Up twelve steps towards the car
Street so calm dawn still dark

Turn ignition and scream down Boschetti
Toward the metro lines metal spaghetti

Out of the station, sky still dim
Into the streets of saint Joaquin

Down the street and around the corner
Panga of pinga wanting coffee of the morning

Looking at the clock, oh it's too late
Cross the street and go through the gate
And commence our long 4 hour wait.