This morning you looked nice, I understand, Just like a groom on his proud way to church, But now your tie's undone and you can't stand Unless the lamp-post guides you as you as you lurch. Your partner calls and indicates the way, But legs - unsteady things at best - have schemes That thwart the rules of sense or gravity. I start and stumble like this in my dreams, And on this day dreams meet reality - Or so they tell me in the glossy mags. I placed no bets and won no sort of race; Perhaps you're better off, disheveled rags The signs that you dreamt once. I play it safe And keep my clothes in tact. You walk on air And yet you cannot walk now as I stare.