The mechanics of this life leave me confused

The ridiculousness of it all leave me bemused

I find it increasingly hard to be enthused

 

Spliff, line, drink, pill

I carry on and carry on

Way past my fill

 

Medicated, not moderated

My anaesthetic lust left unsated

My choices left uncontemplated

 

I’m too fucked up to care any more

1 pint, 2 lines, 3 hits, floor

What illness lies in store?

 

I’m already ill

It’s why I need this pill

It’s why my beer is spilled

 

This reality is a fucking joke

Nigel Farage? I need a smoke.

Donald Trump? I’d happily choke

 

Then I’m right here

With good people close and near

This isn’t Somalia, there’s nothing to fear

 

Doesn’t make it easier, though

To ride this rapid’s ebb and flow

To take a breath, to take it slow

 

Maybe this excess is making worse

Maybe I’m chasing the hearse

I’ll cool it off, if I don’t die first

 

I think that I’m so rock ‘n’ roll

But I’m just a cock who stole

From greater men in this role

 

The poet

Who knows it

 

What is my poetic position?

What’s my wry view on the human condition?

 

Life is Chaos

Life is Random

I wish my dad would have worn a condom

 

But then you’d not get to see my problems undressed

So I can feel better, and make you depressed.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s