groans and rolls over and bumps into Maid Marian
grins and considers a wonderful start to a lazy day
"oh yeah," she smiles and pushes him back
"on your way home from work..." he doesn't hear the rest
his ears full of Sherwood Forest collapsing
skyscapers going up, asphalt rolled over forest trails
whistles and horns keeping the birds at bay
when jack-hammers stop
the poor are still unfed and poor
but the rich impossibly out of reach, no way to rob them
certainly not with threats of arrows or from swords
no, he must rise and shower, shave, put on his prison suit
and march off with his briefcase to the bus
and work all day to make the rich more richer
he wonders if the world changes for Maid Marian like this
and guesses not
she plays and tolerates his fantasies
but never loses track of what their world demands
he wonders which of them is luckier
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