A Dear John Letter

my name is carpenter
I hardly ever wear overalls, but
construction sites follow me around
I keep extra safety goggles in my purse
and don’t get to town much, because
you can dress a belt-sander up
but you can’t take it anywhere
if my name were rich
I’d still wear work pants, but
I’d ditch the hard hat
an armoured car service
would drive me into town
I’d be a hit at the cash & carry
I’d be a star at the solid gold bar
I’d sing double platinum hits

(happy birthday john richey)
. . . . .