Ode to My Stuff

Thanks be to you,
My watch alarm
How your cacophony rankles.
But it's you that screams me awake
To meet the day, to catch the bus.

And to you my dear iPod,
You of a thousand songs,
Who lures me from my zombie sleep
Into the dance of the Zombie Jamboree.
Who calls to me to rise from the nest
And run into the dark,
To run from the dark.

Oh streetlights
How I shall miss your glow
Once Mr. Harrison bids you farewell
And sings my legs forward in a chorus of
Sun Sun Sun.
The dawn arrives, light sky and the moon.

L.L. Bean jacket, windblock, reflective tape,
When you begin your hibernation
I won't miss you.
But I'll remain forever grateful to you
For your warmth and reflectivity,
And windblockiness.
We've got a bit more travelling together,
But only a bit.

Mr. Simon, it isn't Late in the Evening,
It's Freakin' EARLY in the morning,
And there are no girls out on the stoop,
yeah,
But your drums, your drums,
They move my feet,
They wake my brain.

And you, oh hair elastic,
my devoted haystack retention device,
I shall never again forsake you
And decide that my hat will suffice in your place.
Such foolish logic.
Please forgive me,
I will never again leave your stretched form
On the bedside table
Because I was too lazy
To run back upstairs.