If we're talking about love
|
Then I have to tell you
|
Dear readers, I'm not sure where I'm headed.
|
I've gotten lost before.
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I've woke up stone drunk
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Face down in the floor.
|
|
Late afternoon, the house is hot.
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I started, I jumped up.
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Everyone hates a bore.
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Everybody hates a drunk.
|
|
This may be a lit invention
|
Professors muddled in their intent
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To try to rope in followers
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To float their malcontent.
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As for this reader,
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I'm already spent.
|
|
Late afternoon, the house is hot.
|
I started, I jumped up.
|
Everyone hates a sad professor.
|
I hate where I wound up.
|
|
Dear readers, my apologies.
|
I'm drifting in and out of sleep.
|
Long silence presents the tragedies
|
Of love. Not the age. Get afraid.
|
The surface hazy with attendant thoughts.
|
A lazy eye metaphor on the rock.
|
|
Late afternoon, the house is hot.
|
I started, I jumped up.
|
Everyone hates a bore.
|
Everybody hates a drunk.
|
Everyone hates a sad professor.
|
I hate where I wound up.
|
I hate where I wound up.
|
|
-----------------
|
Sad Professor
|
| REM |
