Woke up at six, tried to get back to sleep
Dreams starting, then stopping immediately
I couldn't cross that threshold into deep
Dark pyramids of times gone or to be
But lay yawning the dawn away, slowly
Waking to my fate, Great! I thought, this means
I'll be cream-crackered, low on energy
A half-empty, not half-full, tin of beans
Too tired even to summon up those scenes
Of soft-core sexual sickness I've seen creep
Across my inner screen repeatedly
Auditions by wannabes, might-have-beens
No fanfares, only cold water, the seep
Of Monday, caught in its reality
Mon 29 Oct 07
No comments:
Post a Comment