Every day the Sun pulls me out of bed
Without the help of a job or lover
The pull of the celestial body
Alone causes me to rise
I should be hunting and gathering
Seeking continued existence
For my genetic and moral code
But I'm not
I've had jobs and lovers before
Plus caffeine fires my synapses awake
To the real and unsentimental
And holy modern world
There is no god or science on mid-winter morning that spur me
Just sociability pulsing me out of bed
The sunlight on my face
Sex and apples on my mind
